


You Will Be Healed

by 7ate9



Series: You Will Be You [1]
Category: Love Victor (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Armando stop pls, Felix is ultimate best friend goals, Forgiveness, Found Family, Heartache, Heartbreak, Homophobia, IT'S LONG, M/M, My Version of Season 2, Post-Canon, Sad hour, So much angst, Sometimes fluff?, is anyone ok?, kinda slowburn but also kinda not??, like really long, like sometimes, like too long, like uhhhh youll see, little bit o' religion, low key PTSD, low key references to the book(s), more homophobia, not the most graphic but graphic enough, pick up at season one ending, relationships, sad boys, seriously tho what a good friend, there is fluff I swear squint and you'll see it, tw: assault, victor are you ok?, victor pls, what is happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 57,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25098979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7ate9/pseuds/7ate9
Summary: So maybe Victor overshot a little. And maybe he was temporarily kicked out of his home. And maybe he had no clue where to go from here. And maybe he finally realized that his messages with Simon meant nothing, were worth nothing, this whole time, and he was about as useful as his parents' faith. And maybe he learned how his parents’ “unconditional love” was a lot more like Schrodinger’s cat theory than he’d thought. And maybe, just maybe, Victor was scared shitless of where it all went from here.It was fine. It would all be fine.***Part 1 of You Will Be!
Relationships: Benjamin "Benji" Campbell/Victor Salazar, Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier, Lake Meriwether/Felix Weston, Mia Brooks/Andrew Spencer
Series: You Will Be You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837186
Comments: 384
Kudos: 343





	1. Monsters in the Closet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what this is, I had an idea and couldn't not do it.

Everyone’s heard of monsters in the closet. Everyone knows the monster under the bed, and the demons in our own minds. But no one ever says a word about the monsters lurking in the silence, creeping in the shadows, whispering in the ears of the one who’d last spoken. 

The air conditioning was off. All Victor heard was the sound of his breathing echoing in his head. The longer the quiet stretched, the longer the Monsters of Silence reared their ugly heads, the worst he felt. He felt lightheaded and a strange vertigo slowly overtook him. Why’d he say that? Why would he say that?

There must have been a disconnect between himself and his family. Maybe they hadn’t heard him. Maybe there was still a chance to undo what he’d just done, change his mind, tell his parents it didn’t matter. 

His father looked angry. So, so angry.

Adrian, who had been in the kitchen, was the first to speak. “What’s ‘gay’ mean?”

No one gave him an answer right away. Poor Adrian, probably couldn’t sleep and just wanted a glass of water. Maybe he was cold. He probably wouldn’t get much more sleep tonight.

A part of Victor wished Adrian had never spoken. He could have gone on forever pretending he’d never said a word, he’d never revealed the softest, weakest, most terrified part of himself to the people he cared about most. Bizarrely, he wondered how Benji was doing right now. He had to be doing better than Victor. 

Pilar made an aborted move to stand; she sat back in her seat. Isabel, who Victor thought would never do anything except support him, was terribly quiet. Armando was so angry.

“What do you mean you’re gay, Victor?” Armando spoke softly, but his voice was full of rage. He stood. “How can you be gay? We raised you _right_!”

Victor was trembling. He felt lopsided, like he might fall over. He should have said this sitting down. “I like boys, Dad.” His voice was merely a whisper, and though the words didn’t quite convey it, the phrase was entirely a plea. Anyone could hear the begging in his tone. _Please, Papi, please love me still._

Armando pursed his lips, shaking his head. “No, you’re not _gay_.” He spat the word like it was acid on his tongue. “What about God? What about Mia?”

Victor took a tiny step forward. He was almost surprised he didn’t fall flat on his face. “I love Mia. But not the way she wanted me to. Not the way you wanted me to.”

Armando ran a hand over his mouth. He probably felt like his life was falling apart, Victor reasoned with himself. His son was gay, his marriage was in shambles, his daughter was going through a constant rebellion against all things Salazar. Victor took a chance to glance around the room. His brother was in the kitchen. He looked so scared, looking at Victor like he needed someone to tell it was okay. Pilar was sitting in her seat, staring at the floor, a film of tears over her eyes. His mother was looking at Victor’s shoes. She was crying, too. 

Victor would never forgive himself if he started crying, though his eyes were stinging with tears and his cheeks were hot and itchy. His throat was closing up. He was an idiot to do this. Why did he ever have to tell them?

To him, homophobia was the monster under the bed. To everyone else, _he_ was. He was the monster in the shadows. Him and all the people like him, his community, his friends, his boyfriend. Were he and Benji boyfriends now? Did it make sense this thought came to him in a time like this?

Armando wouldn’t hurt him. He’d never hit any of them before, but then, he’d never had a reason to. And they all knew at this point their father had beaten up his own boss once given a reason to. 

“Dad,” Victor pleaded. His voice sounded hoarse. He cleared his throat; nothing happened. “Mom, please, I need you both to understand. I love boys. That’s it. I’ve always been this way--”

“No you haven’t!” His father screamed. His face was red with anger, his eyes bulging, his hair a mess from him pulling at it. For a moment, Victor’s father looked like the crazy man their mother told them to avoid on the street. “You’re a liar! You’re poison!”

Were those tears on Victor’s cheeks? Hot streaks running down his face, betraying him? “Dad--”

“Don’t call me that!” Armando stalked over to Victor and smacked the back of his head as hard as he could. Victor couldn’t help but flinch and let out the sob he’d been holding back. “You think we’ve worked so hard for our family to get here for you to ruin it?” Another smack. “No, Victor, absolutely not!”

“Dad,” Pilar pleaded from behind him, “please, don’t hurt him--”

Their father turned and yelled at her,” You stay out of this, Pilar! Did you know? Did you know about his sin?” 

Pilar, shaking with fear, shook her head no. Her bottom lip was trembling as one tear finally slipped down her cheek. Victor understood why she was lying. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Armando tried to hurt Pilar, too. 

Armando was tense. He took two steps away from Victor, and he thought he was safe. Maybe he wouldn’t be hurt anymore. Maybe Armando wouldn’t hurt him anymore. 

He was wrong. 

Armando spun around, doubled back, and connected his fist as hard as he could with the side of Victor’s face in a vicious right hook. He fell to the floor almost immediately. Victor heard a gasp and whimper from the kitchen, Pilar’s scream, and his mother finally speaking up and saying something to his father, but he registered none of it. All he could make sense of was the terrible pain in his cheek. It had to be done, Armando had to be done. With another show of brute force, Armando sank his foot into the soft part of Victor’s gut. Bile rose in his throat, and he choked it down, too afraid of what would happen if he allowed himself to throw up on his family’s floor. In another flash, the heavy toe of Armando’s boot kicked into Victor’s crotch. The pain was so immense and sickening that Victor was seeing spots.

“Get out of my house!” Armando shouted in Victor’s face. “Get you and your disease out! Now!” Armando grabbed Victor by his arm and wrenched him to his feet. Victor howled out in pain, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Armando shoved him toward the door just in time for Isabel to get Victor free of his father’s painful grip, knocking Victor to the floor once again.

“Victor!” She shouted, her face stained with tears. Armando put himself between his wife and son. 

“ _Out_!”

Victor scrambled to his feet and flung himself at the door, tearing it open and heaving himself through the doorway. The door slammed shut behind him. He could hear more screaming inside the house. Victor wondered, suddenly, if Adrian had been there that whole time. If he’d been scarred for life so young. 

Victor slumped over to the steps, his stomach and cheekbone aching. His scalp still stung a little, too. It took time, but as Victor was sitting there for what felt like forever, the noise in his apartment died down. He checked his phone; 11 p.m. Of course it did, his family didn’t want to get a noise complaint. He checked his battery level while he had the time; 18%. 

Victor had nothing. He had no family, no place to stay, barely any friends. Although, he still had Felix. Well, Felix was weird about his apartment. He couldn’t ask if he could stay with him. And Benji and him were both just starting things out. They needed to take it slow. 

This thought, Victor realized, was sort of insane. He needed a place to stay. Benji would be happy to oblige. 

Well, wait. His dad was homophobic.

And this thought, for some reason, was hilarious to Victor, and he started cracking up laughing. His gut hurt with the force of it, and his cheek ached. There was nothing funny, but Victor was laughing hysterically now, hunched over laughing and aching so badly, tears were in his eyes again and he was full-on sobbing now, trying to keep it down so he didn’t alert his neighbors-- or his father. He desperately did not want to alert his father. 

With this thought, he sobered up, his body hurting all over. He didn’t have even a smidge of energy left in him, though he still needed to find a place to stay.

After enough time, he heaved himself to his feet and trudged down the stairs to the ground level, then pushed open the door and let himself be surrounded by the chill of the night. It wasn’t exactly cold, really. it was very humid. The sticky air just reminded him of the thick tension in the air when he’d told his parents. The memory made laughter bubble out of his throat, sick giggles touched with mania that made his stomach and pelvis ache all over again. God, coming out was one hell of a mistake, wasn’t it? This thought made him laugh again. Tears touched his eyes, and already he was so sick of crying, but he was so scared and he was shaking and it seemed the only things he could do were lurch forward, laugh, and cry. 

Maybe his dad was right. Maybe he was a disease. 

Victor dropped down onto the steps outside his building, lost. He should have been worrying about where he’d go tonight, if he’d have anywhere to go at all, who he could call with the last 18%--scratch that, 17% battery he had left. Instead all he could think about were all the tears his family just shed over him. All the heartbreak and disdain in their eyes. How scared Adrian was. How angry his father was. How Pilar had tried to help him, despite everything. How his mother pulled Armando off of him, tears in her eyes. They were all so scared. Did they realize Victor was hurting so much more over this than they ever could?

The door opened behind him. Victor’s body seized. His father saw him, he was dead now, oh, God, he was so dead, no one was there to stop him--

A duffle bag and his backpack dropped by his side, and he flinched so hard his head hit the railing. Just another bruise, it didn’t really matter. 

Isabel Salazar, the saint she was, sat on the other side of the duffle bag, concern in her eyes, paths in her makeup where the tears had fallen. Her eye shadow was smudged. She still looked so beautiful.

“Oh, mi amor,” She spoke softly, her voice hoarse. “I love you so much.” She sat so far away. Maybe she was afraid of him, too. She went on, her voice getting tight, “I packed you some things. Phone charger, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, enough clothes for a couple weeks, I hope.” She was obviously trying to go for casual, but her voice was so strained and the air between them was so tense that it came out like she was giving his eulogy at a funeral. Did she see it that way, too? Whether she did or not, she went on, “This won’t be for long, mijo. Your father just needs some time. We both do.” She stood, hesitated, then gave him a gentle kiss on the head, right where his father had smacked just an hour earlier. Had it already been an hour? Had it only been an hour? Isabel stroked Victor’s cheek, which was tender with what was no doubt a forming bruise. “I wish you could come inside, Victor. But you and I both know it’s not safe yet.” She gave him another kiss. “I love you, mijo. We just need a bit of time to come to terms with this. I’ll make sure you can come home. You will always be a part of our family.”

With this, she gave him one last kiss, then went back inside. 

And Victor felt it. There was one big, giant wound in him. This could never close. And it would never heal. 

***

Victor wasn’t sure how much longer he sat out there staring at the moon, but it seemed like forever. It started to rain. The skies had no mercy on Victor, or maybe they were crying for him, because they clouded over, blocking the moon, and poured out every drop of water they could squeeze onto the poor boy on the concrete steps. Victor couldn’t even muster up the energy to find shelter, and sat there, eyes closed, letting the rain soak through his wrecked suit and matt his hair to his head, running cold over his bruised cheek and heated skin. He could imagine the water sizzling against his warmth, steaming into the air. Though, somehow, he still felt cold to the bone. 

The rain kept going, and Victor knew that he needed to figure out what to do. He checked his phone, sheltering it best as he could from the rain and saw he had 14% battery. He considered sending a small text to Simon, telling him he was now homeless and didn’t know what to do. Simon would know what to do. 

Except, he didn’t really know what to do. He never did. And Simon was hundreds of miles away in New York. What could that possibly do for Victor? Nothing. That’s all Simon’s ever been able to do for Victor. Nothing Simon could say ever mattered. 

As if on cue, Victor’s phone vibrated with a message from Simon. They’d exchanged numbers in New York, though they’d never actually used them yet. This was no different, and his phone recognized his face, unlocking so Victor could read Simon’s DM. 

**Hey, Vic,** the message read, **how’d the dance go? We’re looking forward to hearing about it! -Simon + the gang**

Victor was suddenly unbelievably angry. He was outright furious, at his family, Mia, Andrew, Simon. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay. Victor was filthy and exhausted and sticky all over and so fucking tired. He swiped the notification away. Forget Simon Spier. His advice was useless. Victor couldn’t understand now how he’d ever thought it was anything more. He felt like screaming. Everything was fake. Everything was useless.

With that, Victor thought of what he could do or who he could call. Briefly, he thought about Benji. Benji, the boy he just kissed mere hours ago. Benji, the boy whose license was suspended. Benji, the boy with a homophobic father who would never let another gay boy spend the night there because of his own homophobic parents. 

Victor felt sick. He was cold and he was tired and he was so, so hollow. He couldn’t bring Benji into this. It would do nothing. Victor wouldn’t have a place to go, and it would just upset Benji and worry him. As much as Victor needed a shoulder to cry on, he knew Benji had had a good night; Victor couldn’t ruin that. 

Felix was an option, though he’d never met his mother and he’d also never been in Felix’s apartment. He knew he was self conscious about it, and though Victor couldn’t imagine what could be in there, he figured it must have been something big enough to scare Felix into never letting his best friend inside. Victor needed a place to stay, but he couldn’t infringe on his only friend’s boundaries. And besides, he wasn’t really sure if Felix was still on his side. He could have turned against him for Lake. And to be fair, Victor was in the wrong. He’d cheated on Mia and broken her heart. It was only fair. 

(Why did Benji want to be with him again? He was a terrible person. Hell, even his family saw that.)

Victor thought about his family again. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was shameful. 

He had to get moving. He had to go somewhere. He had to find a place to go until Monday morning. 

He paced around the street aimlessly before finding his parents’ car. He had a key on him. He could stay in there for shelter, wake up early, figure out what to do then. Maybe go to Brasstown. Fuck, he had to work tomorrow, didn’t he? What if Benji was there? Would he come back? 

Eventually, he reasoned with himself that was the best--and only--plan he had, unlocked the doors, and climbed in the back. With his limited space and the 360 windows he was trying to hide from, he did his best to change into a warm pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt (bless his mother’s thoughtful heart) before stretching out, or curling up, across the back row and closing his eyes. The first thing he saw against the backs of his eyelids were his dad’s anger and his mother’s tears. 

He didn’t get much sleep that night.


	2. Salt in the Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following weekend

When Victor woke up at half past six that morning, with his phone dead under his thigh and his digital watch the only thing giving him light, he thought, for a second, he was dreaming. He was so confused, but then he sucked in a breath and stretched out his jaw and he felt two sharp pains in his cheek and gut, along with a dull ache all along his body, and he knew it was the truth. He’d come out, and he’d been kicked to the curb, and he had nowhere else to go. Right then, he really just wanted Benji to hold him and tell him he’d be okay, but if he did that then he’d know the truth. Benji couldn’t see him today. He couldn’t see him until whatever bruise was there was fully gone. 

Victor touched his left cheek and upon feeling how tender and painful it was, he confirmed for himself there was a bruise. As much as his body protested, Victor sat up and used the rearview mirror to inspect how bad it looked. There was no denying Victor had been hit; there was no denying there was a bruise to show it. He wondered if he could find a way to talk to Pilar and get some face makeup to cover the dark spot. 

As he stared at himself, the dark circles under his eyes, his hair all knotted up in thick, matted curls, he realized there was no way he could go to work like this, and makeup would do absolutely nothing. He was due in at 10, which gave him three hours to figure out the shower situation. Maybe he could figure out a way to get on campus and use the showers. Or he could find a way to the community center. Didn’t Felix tell him he’d used showers there before? 

His phone was still dead, so he’d have no way to know how to get there or if they’d even have showers. Victor was at such a loss for what to do that he almost forgot his dad leaves for work at seven, and he’d never left the apartment that night, which meant he’d be coming down soon enough to get in the car. 

At 6:50, Victor packed up his things, and left the car. With each tiny movement, pain bloomed all over, especially in his stomach. He kept wincing, which made more pain spark in the bruise on his cheek. Everything hurt, including his knee. It was a good thing he’d decided to leave ten minutes early instead of five, because it took five minutes alone just to get out of the car and stretch. Every muscle ached from laying in such an odd position all night. He felt sore and hollow, and it took another five minutes to limp away to a spot he wouldn’t be seen when Armando came down into the car. He got in, started it, and drove away. Victor prayed he hadn’t left anything in there as proof that he’d spent the night in there. 

As Victor limped his way to Brasstown, feeling immensely sorry for himself, he noticed the community center. _Thank. God._

He made his way inside and slipped into the locker room without being noticed. You needed a key for the lockers, he noted, but the showers just needed to be turned on. He made sure there wouldn’t be any second security measure for the water to be turned on, then stripped and showered as quickly as he could. He worked the knots out of his shoulders and neck under the hot water and inspected the bruise that formed where Armando had punched him. Just as he was putting on his pants, the door to the locker room opened and an employee came in, his gaze immediately zeroing in on Victor. A stone dropped in Victor’s stomach. Could anything go right for him?

“Hey, man,” the employee said, “you need a membership to be able to use these showers.”

Victor could pay a membership, right? He had a job, and he needed the showers. “How much is it a month?”

“Six-ninety-nine.” The employee informed him. “You need to be eighteen or older to sign up.”

Another weight in Victor’s gut. “I’m only sixteen.”

“Do you have a parent that can sign it for you?”

Victor’s knees were starting to give out. Maybe he could pay for this one shower then never come back. Maybe he’d live the rest of his life without a shower. Or maybe he could work on weekdays and use the showers at school, and not work weekends. That could work. “I, uh, I don’t. Could I possibly just pay for this one?”

The employee regarded Victor carefully. “Why do you need to use our showers?”

Victor’s hands were shaking now. He leaned against the wall, and it just now occurred to Victor that two of his three bruises were on display. He wondered what this white middle-aged man thought of this clearly Hispanic sixteen-year-old boy with bruises all over using a shower without permission, with no parents. In Victor’s experience, it probably was nothing good, and this was going to get a lot worse. There was an audible tremble in his voice as he told him, “My parents, uh, don’t want me home.” It was fact, but the sentence came out almost as a question. Victor wished desperately he could die right then and there. There was nothing going for him now. Except maybe Benji, if he still wanted him as of today. 

The guy observed him again, this time clearly lingering on the bruises on his body, and the way Victor was standing, favoring his left leg, hunched over in pain. He nodded once, then said, “Put on your clothes. I’ll get you a daily pass.”

Victor thought he might cry. He dressed quickly and followed the man to the front desk. He was quick with his work, and explained to Victor that the pass allowed for him to have one shower a day, and also get one free meal, and will give him access to a few places in the facility. He offered to give him a tour of where he could go, but Victor declined. It was 9:15 already, and he had no idea how long it would take for him to walk to Brasstown for his shift, and now more than ever he couldn’t afford to lose this job. He thanked the employee more times than he could count, tears in his eyes, before the employee gestured to the door to head out. His name was Jeff. Victor sent up a vague prayer for Jeff. 

He made it to Brasstown with two minutes to spare, got a spare apron and was finally able to get to work. Without Benji it was all too easy to get lost in his thoughts about the shambles his life had fallen into, but he just thought about all the times he’d been here with Benji, when they’d danced to Call Me Maybe, when they’d known each other so well they barely even needed to speak. Victor so desperately wished he could turn back the time a month ago, before he’d gone on that godforsaken road trip and things started falling apart. 

Victor was alone today behind the counter, and it was unusually busy, which was, to him, a godsend. More time he needed to take thinking about work, less time thinking about last night. Another person stepped up to the counter, and Victor called a “Be right with you” before he finished making the drink he’d been working on and turned to the counter. Benji was there in his leather jacket with his long hair and his big smile and bright eyes. For a second, Victor was so happy he thought he could cry. Then, Benji’s smile was gone and his brow creased and he was so concerned and Victor felt like he could cry all over again. He wanted that smile, he _needed_ that smile, and he needed to figure out a way to get it back. 

“Victor, what happened?” Benji reached out to touch his left cheek, and, much as he hated it, Victor flinched, hard. Benji recoiled as if he’d been burned. Now he was _really_ concerned. Victor hated himself so much in that moment he wasn’t sure why he’d ever existed in the first place. 

“I, uh,” his voice was shaking, _damnit_ , why was his voice shaking so much? “I was standing in front of the door and Adrian sort of, just, slammed it open.” He lied, faking a smile and a laugh. 

Benji didn’t seem convinced. “You’re sure? This looks like it had some force to it.” He reached out again, very, very slowly and calculated, as if Victor was a scared stray puppy, and touched his cheek. He stroked the bruise carefully. The way he held Victor’s face made him feel so loved, so breakable, he felt all over again like he might cry. He sniffed. 

Wow, Victor really needed sleep. 

“Um, yeah, he’s strong for a kid.” Victor assured him. 

Benji looked like he wanted to believe him, but wasn’t sure if he should. It was weird, because Victor didn’t want him to worry but, still, he prayed Benji saw through the lie and asked for the truth. He wanted so badly for him to ask him, _No, Victor, what’s_ really _wrong?_ But instead Benji just nodded, trying to digest that as truth even if it felt deeply wrong to him. “Well, uh, good. So, is Sarah here? I was wondering if I could, um, switch back?”

This perked Victor up a little bit. “Really?”

Benji shrugged, sheepish. “I mean, I miss it here. It has a good vibe, and I work much better here than at my new place. And besides,” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “there’s this really cute barista guy here and I’d _love_ spending time with him.”

Victor bit his lip to curb a smile, his cheeks heating. “Sarah is here. She’s in the back. I’m sure she’d love to have you back.” He leaned in, too, trying to hide his smile, and whispered, “And I bet that cute barista guy would like having you back.”

Benji looked like he was trying to fight his own grin away. “You think?”

Victor nodded just as two people got in line. Benji gave him a full smile now, just as big as it was when he first saw Victor that morning, then he came around the counter, gave his arm a little squeeze, and went in the back to find Sarah. Victor was confident she’d be thrilled to have him come back. As much as the two didn’t get along quite right, she did love having him to give him responsibilities, and he always gladly took them. 

The people that were behind Benji stepped forward, and every good feeling in Victor went away instantaneously. 

“M-Mia! Andrew, hey.” The wound Victor had been trying to hide all day, the one his dad ripped wide open last night was open and as painful as ever. Mia’s eyes were red, and Andrew looked more smug than ever, which was saying a lot. 

“What happened to you?” Mia asked nonchalantly, almost like she was asking because she didn’t want to know. 

Victor took a shaky breath and tried to smile. “Got hit in the face by a door.” 

Andrew chuckled softly, though it was anything but polite. “Nice one, Salazar, you managed to make yourself look worse than usual.”

And unfortunately, Benji had just resurfaced from Sarah’s office, and he’d heard that. He sidled up right next to Victor, tense. “Leave him alone, Andrew.”

“I can take it, Benji,” Victor assured him, though Benji wasn’t appeased.

“But you shouldn’t have to. No one should have to.”

“It’s okay, Benji.” Victor told him.

“Yeah, Victor, call your guard boyfriend down,” Andrew smirked. 

Victor took a deep breath, eyes closed. “Would either of you like to order something, because you’re forming a line.”

Andrew moved to say something, but Mia put a hand on his chest. “Yes, Victor, thank you.” She ordered for the both of them quickly and checked out, then went to find a table. Victor took the next order, then began making the four drinks in the orders. 

“Victor, you don’t have to take that bullshit.” Benji said once the last people in line were out of earshot. 

“You don’t have to defend me, Benji,” Victor shot back, suddenly exhausted. 

Benji crossed behind him to the aprons. “I’m your boyfriend, Victor, I’m allowed to defend you when people talk bad about you.” Both paused, and Victor sucked in a breath. Benji’s face went red. “I’m sorry, I know we haven’t talked about it, it just sorta--”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind it.” Victor assured him. Benji nodded. “I kind of like it, actually. Boyfriend.”

This earned him a small, sheepish smile, something new, though not too different from the smile Benji had given him after they kissed last night. Was that last night? It felt like a lifetime ago. 

It was then that Victor noticed what exactly Benji had paused doing. “So, I take it Sarah put you back on?”

Benji seemed confused for a moment, then resumed tying his apron around his waist. “Yeah, I asked and she just called the manager of the other store and went, ‘He’s coming back as of today, suckers,’ then hung up and told me I start back here now.”

Victor smiled, relieved. He needed Benji so bad it hurt. Everything hurt. But looking at Benji right now, knowing he cared for Victor this much, he’d never felt safer. 

They were together again, an unstoppable duo, at the top of their game. Victor ignored his aches in his shoulders and his stomach and his legs and his pelvis. He smiled so big that the bruise on his cheek hurt, but for a little while, it didn’t matter. Benji was there to defend him, always. Victor wished, for just a moment, he’d been there last night when Armando had hit him. Maybe then Victor wouldn’t have so many bruises. 

Then that moment was gone, and he was left wondering if Benji would have bruises, too.

***

The next day, he and Benji both had off, and Benji insisted on going to the park to study together. Victor had gotten a mere fitful two hours of sleep that night after sneaking into his parents’ car at twelve in the morning, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to stay awake the whole time. Nevertheless, Victor readily agreed. He wasn’t sure what else he’d do. 

He left the car at 5 a.m. to avoid more soreness; there was no way he’d get anymore sleep like this and it was useless to lay there. He sat on the steps for another hour until he knew the community center’s showers opened and finally made his way there. He had a small conversation with Jeff as he checked up on him and made sure he was okay, then took a shower. His stomach rumbled, but he decided to wait and see if Benji wanted to get something to eat. 

He made it to the park at 6, when the only occupants were the homeless people who mill around the city. Was he considered homeless now?

Victor had two more hours to kill before Benji got there, and rather than dwell on that depressing thought, he decided to stash his bag of clothes where Benji wouldn’t see and he’d have a clear sight of so he’d know if anyone tried to steal it. Then, he resolved to climb the apparatus in the playground despite his aching and watch the sunrise. He wished Benji could be here with him to enjoy it, but he was probably still asleep. Victor loved sunrises, though he was rarely awake early enough to see them. He figured, with what’s going on now, he’d be able to see them more often. Maybe he’d learn to hate sunrises because of it. 

The sky was full of reds and oranges that bled into yellows and purples, which eventually gave way to a lighter blue that gave way to a deep navy, no longer a night sky, but something just dark enough that you’d have to look twice to realize it was just a shade too light to be anything but morning, and if you dared glance east, you’d see the morning is well on its way, as unstoppable a force as the tectonic plates shifting under Victor’s feet, as the water crashing ashore and pulling grains of sand to the great depths beyond, as the love between two boys who want to hold hands. As the anger and brute force of a homophobic father. 

Suddenly, the sun seemed too bright to Victor, and he averted his eyes to the grass. He’d read once that grass wasn’t actually green, but the light reflecting off it made it seem so. Victor wasn’t ever quite sure he believed that, though he guessed he couldn’t ever prove it untrue. He wondered if there was a scientist anywhere who had proved it to be true, maybe with prisms or microscopes or special glasses. Victor wasn’t really sure how science worked beyond the basics.

He wondered, suddenly, what people would do if someone proved there was no God, or there was one specific religion which was truth. He wondered if everyone would take this and follow that religion, or if people would deny it. He wondered if Christians would still be Christians, if Mormons would still be Mormons, if Buddhists would still be Buddhists. He wondered if his parents would find it in themselves to love him again. 

He sat atop that apparatus for what seemed like an eternity. He thought about science, and about religion, and about Simon. Was he worried? Was he still messaging him? Was he expecting a message back? Did Victor even care?

After that eternity passed, another one did. Victor checked his watch. It was almost 9. Hadn’t they agreed on 8? Did they misunderstand each other? Did Benji think 8 p.m.? No, that wouldn’t be right, it was a school night and they were studying, it’d be getting dark by then. 

A thought crept into Victor’s mind, which he didn’t even want to entertain, but as the minute hand came closer to the 6, he had to consider it a possibility. Did Benji stand him up?

Was Victor being stood up? It was almost 9:45 now, and Victor was hurting all over. Well, wasn’t this the fucking cherry right on top? First Mia, then his family, then being _homeless_ , now Benji didn’t even show up to a date _he planned_? At first, Victor was pissed. Then, he was just sad. 

What had he done so wrong that he deserved whatever this was? Why had he gone through years of hating himself and what he was, denying himself of what he wanted, only to finally love himself and end up here, alone, homeless, helpless? What had he done that was so terrible that this was how he had to pay for it?

Victor was so sick of crying, so drained of it, that he felt exhausted just at the feeling of tears welling in his eyes. He’d barely slept in two days, and all this aching and crying and worrying was _exhausting_. When did Victor get to sleep? When was that going to happen? When was it his turn for eternal rest?

He was ready to climb off the apparatus and go find a cliff to jump off of when a familiar voice called his name. _Benji!_ Maybe all hope wasn’t completely lost. 

Victor made his way down from the apparatus, relief pouring through his body. He blinked the tears away, forcing the exhaustion back. Of course Benji wouldn’t leave him like that. This was Benji, kind, sweet, intelligent, hopeless romantic Benji. 

“Hey,” Victor greeted once Benji got close, “you’re late.”

Benji tilted his head, pausing a decent couple feet away from Victor. He wished he hadn’t. The only thing Victor wanted was to sink into his arms and sleep. But then Benji would know something was wrong. “Um, what do you mean? I texted you last night saying I wouldn’t be able to get here until ten. You never answered.”

Victor bristled. “My phone broke last night.” He lied. 

Benji frowned. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get here any earlier, though. My dad needed my help with something.”

With effort, Victor pushed down his frustration and nodded. A headache was budding at his forehead, right in the corners of his eyes by his nose. “Alright. Let’s go study.”

Benji nodded. He led Victor to a shady spot where they could rest their backs against the trunk of a tree, and where Victor luckily had a great line of sight to his duffle bag hidden in the bushes. It occurred to him, suddenly, that he would have no clue what he’d do if someone did steal it. How would he explain it to Benji without telling him everything? And he could have just had it with him and told Benji he picked something up for his dad. Too late now, wasn’t it?

“So, Victor,” Benji started, “how has everything been?” He pulled out his math textbook and notebook. “Did you tell your parents yet?”

Victor’s stomach plummeted. “I, uh, I have not.” He pursed his lips and rifled through his own bag so he wouldn’t have to see Benji’s disappointment. “I’m not really sure it’s safe for me to come out.”

Benji put a hand on Victor’s back, and he reluctantly turned around to look Benji in the eyes. Instead of the disappointment he thought he’d see, all he saw was concern and understanding in his eyes. “I get it. I don’t want you to do anything you feel uncomfortable or unsafe doing. We can find a way around it.”

Victor’s eyes welled up with tears. “How did you get to be the best thing in my life?”

Benji furrowed his brows, but Victor could see the emotions in his face. He was touched. “I could say the same about you, Vic.” 

Victor bit his lip, then curled into Benji’s chest. “I’m so tired,” He admitted. “It’s been so hard to sleep lately.”

“Do you want me to read you math problems?” Benji offered, gesturing broadly at the textbook open in his lap. “That’ll surely put you to sleep, won’t it?”

Despite everything, Victor laughed. “Sure.”

“Okay. Well there was a building thirty-seven feet tall, with a shadow of x..." 


	3. God Save Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: I don't read these before I post them, so if there's a grammar/spelling mistake, let me know!

“Pilar!” Victor was shaking the second he saw her. She whipped around at the sound of her name, and her eyes bulged once she saw him. She spun on her heel and all but ran into the building. Victor, tired and aching as he was, tried desperately to keep up with his little sister, but she inserted herself in a crowd of students, and he lost her as soon as he’d found her. The rejection hit him square in the chest, a sharp pain. He knew he’d hurt Pilar when he’d cheated and proved to be different than she’d thought, but she had to know he was hurting, too. She had to know he was bruised and hurting. She was there. She had to know. 

Victor stood, an unmoving block as he felt Pilar get further away. The crowd split around him on their way inside. Suddenly, in the midst of Victor’s internal heartbreak, something flung at his back, knocking the air out of him, and he almost propelled himself away onto the ground, cowering in the face of whoever was going to hurt him next. Did his dad come for him? Another homophobe targeting him for some other unknown reason? Whoever it was had their arms wrapped around him and he couldn’t run, and it  _ hurt _ . Victor howled out in pain, and Felix’s voice was in his ear telling him to relax, it was just him, was he okay?

“Victor!” 

He was shaking all over, and he couldn’t breathe, why did it hurt so much to breathe?

“Victor, I’m so sorry, it’s okay, just breathe--”

“Victor?”

Two voices, two people will hurt him--

“Victor!” Benji’s voice was filtering in, somewhere among the panic Victor was able to recognize Benji was there, why was Benji there, were they both going to hit him?

“Victor, hey, it’s okay--”

“He hasn’t been sleeping well--”

“Victor? Oh, my God--” Mia was there now, too, oh God, they were gonna hurt him--

Was that Baby Shark? Was someone humming Baby Shark?

Baby Shark doesn’t hurt him, does it?

Victor was taking big gulps of air, struggling, but he was breathing. He knew what came next. Everyone knew what came next. Mommy Shark came next. Victor curled into the nearest person, folding in on himself. Soft vibrations ran through the chest his head was pillowed on, and he felt it, and it was Baby Shark. It was Benji’s chest, and he was singing Baby Shark because Victor once told him he found it soothing. Benji remembered that. He’d remembered Call Me Maybe and he remembered this. How did Victor ever think he’d go his whole life without him?

Felix was singing with him, too, doing the hand motions, too, making two fists together for Grandma Shark. He was being absolutely ridiculous, and Victor couldn’t help but laugh. Once Felix heard it, he looked like he’d just been gifted a newborn puppy. The look of pride and joy and affection on his face was irreplaceable to Victor. 

The two finished the song for Victor, then made sure he was okay. It took five minutes of answering the same questions for the two to be satisfied he was okay, then surrounded him in a hug while Mia stood behind them, her hands on her backpack straps. 

“Well, uh,” she started, taking a step back, “I guess since you’re alright, I’ll just head to class.”

Victor sat up, calling after her before he knew what he was doing. He moved too fast, and spots were in his vision, and all three were concerned all over again. He carefully stood, assuring everyone that he was okay. Felix gave him a granola bar and practically begged him to eat it. Once Victor agreed, the boys finally let him go and he motioned for Mia to come with him. 

“Are you really okay?” She asked once they were out of earshot. 

Victor glanced over at Benji and Felix. The two were talking quietly, looking concerned. He looked back at Mia and nodded. “I’m okay. Well, I will be. I need to talk to you, Mia. Please.”

Mia pursed her lips. “Victor I’m not sure we have anything to talk about.”

“I am.” He stressed. “I need you to understand. Please. I want you to know what happened.”

Mia pressed her lips together, stared at his chest, took deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. “Okay. This afternoon, right after school, at Brasstown.”

Relief flowed through his veins, and he could cry all over again. “Thank you, Mia. I’ll see you there.”

She nodded once and went immediately into the school building. 

Felix jogged over, this time making himself known and without tackling. Benji wasn’t far behind him. “Hey. You okay?”

Victor shrugged. Right now he’d be considering what he’d say to Simon, how he’d ask for help. All he knew was his phone was dead, and he wouldn’t even message him if it wasn’t. He’d lost faith in the guys in New York. He’d lost faith in Simon. “I’m alright, I guess. Tired. But alright.”

Felix nodded. “Where were you today? You weren’t there. You also haven’t talked to me all weekend.”

Behind Felix, Benji furrowed his eyebrows at Victor. Right. Neither of them know anything. And Victor was determined to keep it that way. “I, uh, I was spending a lot of time at the park and around. I’ve had a really hard time sleeping. So, I just go walking around.”

Benji looked concerned, and Felix looked suspicious. “Vic,” Benji said, “you have to at least try to sleep. You can get a bit more rest if you even just lay there and close your eyes.”

Victor nodded, more for Benji than himself. “Right.” 

Benji smiled. Victor guessed he was glad he’d understood. “Good.” Benji reached for his hand, like it was the most casual thing in the world. 

_ But what if someone hurt him, too? _

Victor, as casually as possible, pulled his hand from Benji’s grasp and said, “Well, we’d better head in. Class starts soon.” And as if on cue, the five minute bell rang. All around them, teens started going to the school building, groaning in annoyance. None of them wanted school to start. Victor didn’t want it to end. 

Benji was clearly hurt, though he made an attempt to cover it up, even if it was poorly done, and pursed his lips into a fake smile, nodding. Felix looked between the two of them. Benji’s class was a decent distance away from Victor’s and Felix’s classes, and they parted from him right at the front door. Felix immediately pounced on Victor with questions once Benji was out of earshot. 

“What was that? Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t eaten that granola bar, have you? Victor, have you? Do you want something else to eat? What happened to your cheek? Why are you limping? What happened with you and Benji? What happened with you and Mia? I must have missed so much while I was kissing Lake—“

“Whoa, you and Lake are back together?” Victor interrupted, hoping Felix would bite at his attempt to change the subject. 

“Yes, she announced her affections for me to the school and we kissed on stage, it was great, now answer me.”

Victor sighed. No such luck. “Benji and I kissed at the dance. Mia saw.” A flash of the hurt look on Mia’s face came into Victor’s mind. What if he did the same thing to Benji? He shook his head, as if shaking the thought away. “That’s about it. Now we’re together.”

Felix furrowed his brows. “What about Benji’s boyfriend? Wasn’t he at your birthday party?”

_ Derek. Gross.  _ “Yeah, he, uh, broke up with him. To be with me.” Victor couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He bit his lip to hide it, but Felix definitely saw. 

“Wow. That’s a lot.” 

Victor nodded. “Yeah it is.”

Felix eyed the granola bar in Victor’s hand. “Are you sure you don’t want something else? Do you promise you’ll eat that? I can give you something else—“

“Felix.” Victor grabbed his arm to stop him. They were in front of Felix’s classroom now. “It’s fine. I’ll eat it. Thank you.”

“Okay.” Felix moved to head inside the room, then said, “Oh, and Victor?”

Victor turned to him. “Hm?”

“Don’t think you won’t be telling me what really happened this weekend later.” And then he was gone. 

A pit opened in his gut, right where his dad had kicked. Nothing got past Felix, really. 

***

Victor wasn’t sure where he was supposed to sit today. He glanced around and saw Mia, Andrew, and Lake at one table. He figured he probably wasn’t welcome there anymore. A few tables away stood Benji, talking to a group of girls. 

And Felix was grabbing his arm and pulling him behind a building. 

Briefly, Victor thought he was going to be beaten to death. Then he remembered Felix’s puppy eyes and loyalty and eternal love and kindness and he remembered he’d be fine. 

“Okay, Victor, what happened this weekend?” Felix asked. Victor had never seen him so serious before. “What happened to your cheek? Why have you been answering your texts or calls?”

Victor sighed, trying his best to seem exasperated. He needed to convey a solid tone of  _ nothing happened, man, honest _ . How does one convey that on three hours of sleep? “Really, Felix, nothing happened. I was just stressed this weekend with my parents telling me they’re separating. And my cheek is fine. Pilar just accidentally hit me with the door. She’s a strong one.”

“Really?” Felix crosses his arms, almost seeming angry. “Because Benji told me earlier that it was Adrian.”

All the heat left Victor’s body. His stomach lurched uncomfortably and bile jumped in his throat. He reluctantly swallowed the feeling down. Now was the time to really act. “Adrian? You know what, now that I think about it, it might have been Adrian! Pilar, Adrian, what’s it matter, they were both there! Anyway, I mean, it really doesn’t matter, Felix, I—“

“ _ Victor _ .” 

Victor had never heard Felix’s voice so stern. His arms were crossed, his legs shoulder length apart, his face one of determination. There was one thing no one messed with, and that was Felix’s friends. And he knew it. 

Victor gulped. “You have to promise not to tell Benji.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to pull him into this. It’ll just stress him out. And I’m fine right now, really.”

“So fine you’re on maybe three hours of sleep and having anxiety attacks when I hug you.”

“You sneak attack-hugged me.”

“No, I didn’t! I said ‘hey, Victor, what’s up’  _ when I was in front of you _ , and then stood beside you,  _ and then _ hugged you.”

Okay. So Victor had been caught. Really caught. “Just please don’t tell Benji. He doesn’t need to know right now.”

Felix regarded him once, twice, three times, then finally said, “Okay. I promise I won’t tell Benji.”

Victor paused and took a deep breath. How did he explain what happened? “Okay. The night of the Spring Fling, I went home with Pilar early. Our parents told us they were separating. And I told them. I came out.”

Felix slowly dropped his arms. “You… you came out? To your parents? Friday?”

Slowly, painfully, Victor nodded. “It, ah, didn’t go well. They kicked me out.”

Felix took a few calculated steps toward Victor and reached his hand out, tenderly touching the bruise prominent on his cheekbone. “Did Armando do this to you?”

Victor couldn’t help but start to cry. It’d be a hard weekend, and over the past three days he’d gotten maybe five hours of sleep in total, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He nodded, and Felix enveloped him in a tight hug, murmuring soft words of encouragement in his ear. 

After some time, Felix pulled away and asked, “Do you have a place to stay?”

More tears welled up as Victor shrugged. He sniffed and rubbed at his nose. “My parents’ car?”

Felix blew out a heavy breath. “Okay, no, you are now staying at Casa de la Felix.”

“I mean, I’m not sure that’s—“

“Nope, it’s happening. Casa de la Felix, you, there, tonight.” 

Victor laughed, relieved. “What about your mom?”

Felix shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Just a quick note, though, it’s kinda messy.”

It didn’t matter to Victor. It could be hell for all he cared, it was a place with food and water and a blanket. Oh, he hoped he’d get a blanket. “That’s okay, Felix.” 

Felix nodded, then gestured with his chin to the student body eating lunch. “Your beau awaits.”

Victor followed Felix’s gaze to Benji standing under a tree, glancing around the students. Probably looking for Victor. 

He stole one last hug from Felix and thanked him again, then went to Benji. Once Benji saw him, his eyes lit up and he gave Victor a bright smile. Something in Victor told him a hug was a bad idea, and instead held out his fist for a fist bump. Benji furrowed his brows, his smile frozen on his lips as he returned it. They sat under the tree together, their backs against the trunk. 

“You gonna fall asleep on me again?” Benji joked, pulling out his lunch. 

Victor smiled, “You gonna read me math again?”

Benji laughed and eyed Victor’s empty hands. “Where’s your lunch?”

“Oh, I left it at home,” he lied. His chest ached with all the lies he’d already told Benji, but it was for his own good. No need to worry him if there was nothing he could do. 

“Well then,” Benji said, and ripped his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the best halves he could get, “we can share mine.” He measured up the two halves of the sandwich, then held the bigger one to Victor. 

Though his stomach rumbled at the sight, he knew he couldn’t take it. “Benji, that’s okay, eat your lunch.”

“No.” Benji held it out to him again. “I know you’re hungry, Victor. Just eat. Please? It’ll make me feel better.”

Victor bit his lip, but all his willpower was gone. “Okay. Thank you.” He tried his best to savor it, or at least not stuff his face as inelegantly as he wanted to, but he wasn’t sure he achieved that. Benji was looking at him, bemused, and wordlessly held out a bag of pretzels. This time, Victor took them without complaint. 


	4. What Goes Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for the kind words! I feed off approval!!! Here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it!

Mia was looking more than uncomfortable sitting at the table alone. She looked pretty; her hair was up in two buns and she was wearing a pink shirt with a light blue pair of short overalls over it. Victor wished he were meeting up with her for a date. But then, neither of them would be getting what they deserved, would they? Victor supposed that meant he deserved all this, too. 

Mia looked up, glancing around, and her eyes landed on Victor. Both of them seemed to hold their breath at once. Victor let it go, then sat down in the chair opposite of Mia. 

“So,” she said immediately, “what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Victor sighed. “Mia, I’m sorry. First and foremost, I am really, really sorry.”

Mia pressed her lips together, looking anywhere but him. “Okay.”

“Do you want to hear everything? Because I will tell you everything.”

She put her hands down flat on the table, her fingers splayed out, her palms pressing against the laminate on the wood. “Tell me everything.”

Victor took a breath and got started. 

He told her about the first day of school, how he was pretty sure he was gay, just gay, and nothing else. How he met her, and she seemed nice enough. How he met Benji, and he knocked the air out of his lungs. How Victor asked her on the Ferris Wheel because he had a shitty day, and she seemed nice, and he thought he could at least make a friend. He’d chosen her because Felix made it seem like a big deal he’d made her blush earlier. How on the day of the party he had a weird moment with Benji and it freaked him out so he wore yellow to the stoplight party because Felix told him he should. How, at the party, sitting together in her room, he really liked talking to her. He knew it was in his best interest to be with her, so he let himself feel these feelings and asked her on a date. How the kiss at the art exhibit felt good, and that kiss and almost all the ones after it felt right. How he still liked Mia until things started going to the next level, and he started realizing he might not have been attracted to her the way he thought he was. How he lied about having to stay the night in Willacoochee that night, and he wasn’t sure why then and he still wasn’t sure why now, but he did. He told her how he kissed Benji, and then realized it was a mistake and he realized what he was doing and it was a mess for them both. How he realized he was completely gay that following weekend and was going to tell her. He was going to tell her the Friday they were making sushi, but then everything else happened, and he wanted to give her one last good night. But, then everything came back simultaneously to bite him in the ass. And she knew the rest. 

Mia was quiet as she told him everything, and then she was quiet for a long time after. Finally, she said, “So, it wasn’t all a lie?”

Victor shook his head, his hands shaking. “No. I would have never asked you out if I didn’t think there could be something there. For so long I thought there was. I wished there was. I still do.”

She furrowed her brows, then blinked a few times. “I don’t understand. What about Benji?”

He shrugged. “I like him a lot. And I’m so glad I get to be with him. It’s what I’ve always wanted, honestly. When I look back, I know I always wanted Benji.” He bit his lip and stared down at his hands. “But it would be a lot easier to be with you. No homophobic parents and grandparents. No being worried about what people think when we hold hands at school. No being worried about what would happen if we got married, had kids. With Benji, or with any guy, these things will never go away. And I want Benji, I  _ need _ Benji. But the things that come with it…” He shook his head. “I wish I need you the way I need Benji. But I don’t. I just need you.”

Mia bit her lip. “I need you, too. But… Victor, I don’t know if I can forgive you for this. I mean, this hurts.”

Victor nodded despite the pang in his chest at hearing it. “I know. I wish I could’ve handled it better. But, the situation I was in, I’m not sure there was a way to handle it where everyone ends up happy.”

Mia shrugged, her jaw tight. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe not kissing someone else while we’re at a dance.”

Another pang, this one worse than the last. “Yeah. Probably that.”

“I just don’t get it, Victor. Why did you kiss him?”

Victor looked in her eyes, and he wished he could give her an answer she wanted. All he could say was, “I don’t know.”

Mia sat back, blowing out a jet of air. She closed her eyes, then covered her face with her hands. “Okay.” She dropped her hands and stood. “I think we’re done here.” 

“Mia, wait.” Victor stood with her and moved to touch her shoulder. She flinched, and he recoiled so hard he bumped back into the table. How did he stop hurting everyone around him? “Mia, listen. I love you.”

“Not the way I need you to.” 

“I know.” Victor felt his stomach drop, and he couldn’t understand why. His head ached and his body was so tired and he needed an eternity to sleep it all off but he needed Mia to know this. Mia needed to know this. “That doesn’t mean I love you any less. I made some mistakes, big ones, and I get that. And I wish I could take them back but I can’t. I can say I’m sorry a thousand times, but I know, at the end of the day, it can’t make a difference. Only I can make a difference. If you want me to stay away, I will, if you want me to eat dirt, I will, if you want me to go jump off a cliff, I will.” Mia was crying now, and Victor felt his skin burning at the sight of it. “I want you in my life and I want you to forgive me. I need it. But I know I probably don’t deserve it, and I might not ever. I will work my ass off so I might be able to one day. But if I can’t, I just need you to know that I will do anything to make you happy. I just want you to be happy, Mia.”

Mia kept her gaze on the ground, and Victor didn’t try to make her look at him. She was hurting, too, and it wasn’t fair of him. Maybe she was hurting more than him. After all, she was an amazing girl who was just thrown to the side. No one needed to tell him that would hurt. 

Mia sniffed once, fixed her bag on her shoulder, and left. 

***

Felix lived among clutters and piles, though, Victor supposed, now the both of them do. Piles stretch from corner to corner. Deliberate paths were made through the apartment, from the door to the living room, the bedrooms, the kitchen, paths which wound and curved so there could be more things tucked inside. But it still looked like a place with food and water and air conditioning and a bed (or, for Victor, a couch) and he was just grateful for a roof over his head again. 

In the time between when school let out and when Victor had finally arrived at the apartment, Felix had managed to make Victor a decent space. He made up the couch for him, which had imprints of boxes on it and wasn’t comfortable in the least, but Victor was so glad to no longer be sleeping in a car he would’ve slept on the floor if Felix had asked him to.

Beyond making up the couch, he moved some stacks around almost like walls, which were almost as high as the ceiling and had an opening big enough for Victor to squeeze through without hitting his shoulders on anything. The opening was facing the kitchen, but all Victor had to do was move against the ‘wall’ and he’d be unseen. 

Felix looked nervous as he showed Victor around, and it occurred to him this must have been why he’d always been so adamant about being over all the time. 

“Felix,” Victor said quietly, “where’s your mom?”

He sighed in return, and explained, briefly, his mother’s depression and general absence. Victor understood, then, what it meant to Felix when he was at his apartment with his family. Victor wished they could go downstairs to his apartment for the both of them now. 

They went into Felix’s room and did homework on his bed. His room was an odd, orderly contrast to the rest of the apartment and Felix’s general life. Although, Victor figured that order had to be somewhere; mess everywhere could drive a person mad.

“It’s funny,” Victor said randomly. “Around this time, you’d be coming downstairs for dinner.”

Felix gave a little half smile and chuffed. “Yeah, I guess so. Weird how things change so quickly, huh?”

Victor nodded, and maybe it was because he was so tired, or finally completely out in the open with someone, he said, “I miss my family.”

Felix’s smile turned sad. “Do you think they… want you out… you know, for good?”

Victor shrugged. “My dad was pretty adamant that he hates me now, but Mom told me she’d help me come back once it was safe. Pilar seemed upset about everything going on, but then today she saw me and ran in the other direction.”

Felix wasn’t smiling anymore. “Maybe she’s scared.”

Pilar? Scared. Seemed like a foreign concept to Victor, but all he said was, “Maybe.”

He went back to his homework, back to writing, but Felix didn’t follow suit. “What if we go see?” He said. 

“See what?” Victor asked, putting down his pencil. 

Felix shrugged, moving his textbook off his lap. “Your family.”

Stones dropped in Victor’s stomach. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, what if my dad hits me again?”

“Your dad isn’t home,” Felix reminded him. He had his puppy dog eyes out in full force. Victor had yet to meet anyone who couldn’t fall prey to those eyes. Apparently even Andrew had found a soft spot for them. “You could go talk to your brother and sister. And your mom. See what’s going on.”

Victor missed his family so much, Adrian, Pilar, his mom, his dad. “You really think they’ll talk to me?”

Felix thought on that. “I don’t know. But I think we should try.”

That was enough for Victor. He gingerly put his textbook on his bed and followed Felix from the room. His vision was blurring from fear, and he tripped at least twice on some protruding object here or there. Felix eventually took his arm and led him out the door. He was wobbly from exhaustion and nerves by the time they got to the stairs, and Felix stayed one step ahead of him so Victor could lean on him and wouldn’t miss a step and fall. 

His apartment door looked the same as Felix’s, and it took Victor a second to register that they’d gotten there already. His breaths were coming quick and sharp now, and was he really going to have another panic attack in one day? 

“Knock, Victor,” Felix said from behind him. 

Felix was right. He needed to knock to ever get answers. He brought up his fist, poised an inch from the door, and let his knuckles fall against the door. Once. Twice. Three times. 

Felix gently patted his shoulder in silent congratulations, and Victor felt ready. He wanted to fall into the arms of whoever would open the door. Maybe it would be his mother. Or his brother.

Pilar opened the door, and her eyes went wide. 

Victor couldn’t help but smile. His skin was hot and his sweaty and he could barely breathe through his nose because he was so stuffy and he was aching everywhere and he couldn’t tell if his head hurt from stress or hunger or sleep, but none of that mattered because here was his sister, within arm’s length. Pilar.  _ Pilar. _

He opened his mouth to speak. To say what, he didn’t know, not that it mattered. He barely was able to form a word before the door slammed shut in his face once again. 

Oh. 

“Victor,” Felix started, “I am so--”

“It’s okay,” Victor croaked. It was. Really, it was. He just wanted to go upstairs and sleep. Lay down on the most uncomfortable couch he’d ever sat on and just sleep. Without another word, he trudged upstairs, and Felix sagged behind him. 

Really, it was fine. It didn’t matter in the end. His family didn’t want him anymore. This was not news, only a confirmation. And it was fine. Really, it was.  _ Really. _

He fell onto the couch, and Felix sat down carefully next to him. Gently, he placed a hand on Victor’s back then pulled his head down so he was crying on his shoulder.

How long had he been crying? Did it start now? Did it start when they were on the stairs? When the door closed? When the door opened? Did it matter?

His phone buzzed on the arm of the couch, finally given the chance to charge, and he had an onslaught of messages from Benji, from Felix, from Simon and Bram. None from his family. 

Victor didn’t care anymore. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep for eternity. How did he manage that? How did he make sure he didn’t wake up until he was fully refreshed, until everything was resolved? Was it possible? Did he even care about the waking up part?

***

When Victor finally woke up, refreshed was the opposite of what he felt. His body had turned against him, and he was sweaty and cold and could barely breathe. He tried to take a deep breath in, but his throat was so dry and scratchy that he burst into a huge coughing fit. 

There was a knock on his ‘wall’ before Felix came in, brow furrowed, concerned puppy eyes out and ready. He pressed his hand to Victor’s forehead and clucked his tongue. 

“We’re gonna stay home today. Go back to sleep.”

Victor whimpered. “But what if Papi comes?”

Felix frowned. “Victor… Go to sleep, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

Victor couldn’t stay awake even if he wanted to. He was so exhausted and everything hurt so badly that he just couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. 

***

Victor woke up with only the knowledge that he was late for school, and he almost knocked over a whole stack of whatever in his panic. Felix almost dropped the bowls of soup he had. 

When Victor finally calmed down and Felix got him to eat his damn soup, Felix explained that he had a fever and was very obviously sick, and it was almost 2 p.m. by the time he woke up. Victor took note of his body, the queasiness in his stomach, the cold sweat all over his skin, the lingering telltale tingle of an oncoming sneeze, the irritated throat that hurt every time he swallowed. It was probably the whole sitting in the rain thing that really did him in. 

He checked his phone as he ate: a few texts from Benji saying he missed him and was hoping he was okay, along with homework assignments for any classes they had in common. Along with this were seven messages from Simon and Bram. Victor ignored those and texted Benji back with a quick thank you and a heart emoji. 

Victor stared at the number of messages he’d racked from the guys in New York. 43 in total. He didn’t understand why they cared. He didn’t understand why he ever cared. It was all useless. They’d forget about him and move on eventually. Fuck what Simon had said about their community. It wasn’t a community worth being in. It wasn’t a community worth Victor’s happiness and stability. They’d never care about some random sixteen-year-old Columbian gay kid that was kicked out of his home. And soon the guys in New York wouldn’t care either. Benji would probably give up caring, too. He wasn’t sure he could ever shake Felix even if he tried, and thank God for that. Not that there was a God at all. 

Victor was still so, so tired. Turned out what added up to be almost 20 hours of sleep was not enough. Victor was starting to finally understand that no amount of sleep was enough. It would never be enough.


	5. A Shimmer of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Victor be happy :0??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you all are being so kind, thank you for your comments!!! They mean the world to me!!

Even if Victor had given up on trying to get Pilar’s attention, his heart still skipped a beat every time he saw her at school. He never thought he’d miss his moody sister as much as he did, but he wished she’d come talk to him. Maybe what he did was too much to be forgiven. 

Benji, too, seemed to be going insane. Victor wasn’t sure how to hold hands with him in public without feeling a dull ache in his stomach and cheek. Kissing him made him shake so hard he thought he might shed his skin. They both seemed to be walking on eggshells. The thought made Victor’s stomach hurt. Benji had broken up with his boyfriend for Victor, and he couldn’t seem to handle holding hands. Victor could only imagine the type of regret Benji was feeling. 

It was only day six of staying at Felix’s apartment. He met his mom once. She was a sad-looking woman, with wrinkles creased into her skin and frown lines around her mouth and eyes. She had the same puppy dog look Felix had, but where Felix’s filled the receiver with warmth and softness, hers made anyone who saw it feel immensely depressed. Felix had seemed embarrassed when they’d met. Victor had given him a hug and wished he could do more.

He was sick for two more days after the first, which made three absences and forced him to be benched for the Friday game, not that he minded. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to play where it mattered, anyway. 

He kept getting texts from Simon, but he never answered. It wouldn’t matter, anyway.

***

The next day, Victor was staring out the windows at the rain all morning. The sky was so dark and depressing, and all it reminded him of was that terrible night. When the bell rang for lunch, Victor made a beeline for Benji’s locker, getting there as Benji was walking down the hall with a friend. He looked so happy, his smile bright. When was the last Victor had seen Benji smile at him like that?

When Benji saw Victor waiting for him, his smile softened, and it was so beautiful all Victor could do was stare at him. Benji waved a quick goodbye at his friend, then turned to Victor, pleased. “Hey there, handsome,” Benji said, opening his locker so as to be more inconspicuous. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Victor shrugged. “Just a good day to be gay, isn’t it?”

Benji snickered, though he seemed lighter than he had in a while. Was that because of Victor? Did Victor weigh him down? “What has gotten into you?” He brushed his hand gently against Victor’s arm, a touch so light and endearing Victor almost questioned how they could ever be wrong for each other.

“Do you wanna go eat somewhere private today?” Victor asked. He had no idea where that would be, but he wanted Benji to himself for a little while. He wanted to be able to be with him without a constant lingering fear that someone would beat them for it. 

With a smile that could light the whole cloudy sky, Benji nodded and motioned for Victor to follow. Once the crowd started to thin out, Victor swallowed down his fear and panic and reached out. His fingers grazed Benji’s hand, and his boyfriend startled. He glanced at Victor, then their hands, before smiling and carefully lacing their fingers together. No one was hurting them yet. How would he be able to defend Benji if someone tried? Would he be able to?

Benji knocked their shoulders together, giving him a reassuring smile. “How are you doing, Victor?”

Victor took a deep breath. “I, um… I think I’m doing good.”

“Good.” Benji squeezed his hand three times; Victor returned it. 

Eventually, Benji took Victor down a hallway--the arts hallway--and through a door marked Music Room. 

“This is the music room,” Benji told him. “It’s my favorite place in the whole school.” He gave Victor a sly look. “Besides wherever you are, of course.”

“Bet you use that on all the guys,” Victor joked as he looked around in awe. The room was covered in pictures of instruments and students from shows along with some framed pictures of students with their instruments. There were instruments and empty cases all over the back of the room. Sheet music was stacked in the back corner, so tall it could’ve been Victor’s height. Music quotes littered the walls, written in sharpie right on the paint. There was a picture of Benji playing his guitar on the nearest wall. Victor leaned against the piano to see it better. 

“You’d be surprised,” Benji came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his middle and resting his chin on his shoulder. “There aren’t many guys I like as much as you.”

Despite everything, despite all his moods and secrets, Benji still wanted Victor. Victor was still wanted. He turned around in Benji’s arms so they faced each other. “Same here,” he told him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Not one guy I’ve ever felt like this for.”

The side of Benji’s mouth twitched up, and he kissed Victor again. Then, seemingly on accident, Benji said, “And yet you still won’t hold my hand where people can see.”

Victor froze. He knew this would happen sooner or later. He just thought that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t have happened like  _ that _ . 

Benji stood up straight, cringing. “I am so sorry, Victor, I did  _ not _ mean it like that. I, uh-- God, I’m so sorry.” He paced away from Victor, running his hands through his hair. 

Really, Victor wasn’t sure what to say. What did a person say when they convinced their boyfriend to leave his old boyfriend and then keep a bunch of secrets from him while also never feeling comfortable doing the things he wanted to do? What was Victor supposed to say? There was no lie. 

“Benji,” he started slowly, “I--”

“No, Victor, you don’t have to explain yourself,” Benji rushed. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean it like that.”

Victor took Benji’s hand, holding it in both of his. He studied their hands together for a while before speaking. “I wanted to do these things with you. I was looking forward to it. But I just keep thinking… I don’t know.” He thought over his words very carefully before saying, “You remember the Spring Fling?”

Benji furrowed his brows. “Yeah?”

“Right. Well, you remember how I said a little later that I wasn’t sure if it was safe for me to come out?”

Benji’s grip was tighter on Victor’s hands. “Yeah…”

Victor took a shaky breath. “The truth is, Benji, I did come out. The night of the Spring Fling.”

Benji seemed to be holding his breath. Victor felt like he’d been holding his breath ever since he said the words out loud. “And?” Benji whispered.

Victor shrugged. What else did he say? “It, um. It didn’t go over too well.”

When Benji pulled him into a hug, then, every emotion he’d been feeling since that night came flooding back and he didn’t know how to handle it. 

“It hurts so bad,” he cried into Benji’s shoulder. “They don’t want me anymore.”

“That’s not true, Victor,” Benji stressed, squeezing him to his chest. “They want you. They’ll always want you. They’ll always need you. I know it hurts, but sometimes we just have to give people time.”

Benji held Victor as he shook, sobs coming out now with such force his whole body seized, and it was getting harder to breathe. Benji kept speaking low words of encouragement to him, stroking his hair. He never let go. 

After what seemed like forever, Victor’s crying finally subsided, and he pulled back, pressing his hands to his face. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and prayed that was the end. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do.” He dropped his hands and looked at Benji. He was so concerned, so sympathetic. He understood. “I’m so scared, Benji.” 

He nodded and took the steps between them to press a kiss to his forehead. “It’ll be okay, Victor. A few months down the road, this’ll all seem like a bad dream.”

Victor doubted it, though he dared not voice as such. Who was he to make his boyfriend as miserable as he was? “Thanks, B. Let’s eat, okay? I’m starving.”

Benji gave him a smile and gestured to the floor. They sidled up by the wall and sat shoulder to shoulder, eating silently. Since Victor never really had much to eat, Benji had started making him his own sandwich for lunch. It still surprised him when Benji pulled out a sandwich made just the way Victor liked it and held it out to him. Everyday, in moments like these, gestures like that, Victor really started to fall in love with him. 

Benji caught Victor watching him, his face going red under the attention. “What is it? Everything okay?”

Victor shrugged, unable to take his eyes off his boyfriend. “I just… thank you. For the sandwiches everyday.”

Benji’s eyes crinkled with another soft smile. His smiles were easily Victor’s favorite thing in the world. “Of course. I’m glad you like them.” He took a bite out of his own sandwich and covered his mouth to say, “I just try to remember the sandwiches you’d always get at Brasstown. I hope they’re okay.”

“They’re perfect.” Victor leaned over and pecked his cheek. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence while they finished their sandwiches, then moved onto the rest. Benji prepared his lunch in pairs now; one for himself, one for Victor. Two bags of chips, two baggies of celery sticks, and two little containers of peanut butter. Benji and Felix had been so good to him during this hard time, every time he thought about it, he got overwhelmed with emotion. Benji was perfect. 

“You know,” Benji said once he finished his celery, “I miss making music all the time.”

Victor paused with a celery stick halfway to his mouth. A glob of peanut butter was threatening to fall into his lap, so he put it back in the container. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Benji shrugged, “with all the drama with Derek and me, the band sort of decided to take a break.”

Victor bit his lip, his chest squeezing. “I’m so sorry, Benji. It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Benji shook his head and took Victor’s hand. “Absolutely not. It would’ve happened eventually. He and I weren’t right for each other, and it was only a matter of time before I realized that.” He squeezed Victor’s hand and added, “Before I realized I needed someone like you. Before I realized I needed,  _ you _ .”

Victor smiled and leaned his forehead against Benji’s. He squeezes Benji’s hand three times; Benji squeezed it back. 

“I’m sorry that I can’t be better for you,” Victor whispered. “I really want to be a normal couple with you. I just don’t want to get you hurt.”

Benji tipped his chin forward and kissed Victor’s nose. “It’s okay. You’re everything I need. We can take this at whatever pace you want, as long as I get to be with you.”

Victor kissed him. He tasted like peanut butter. Victor wondered if he had ever told Benji how much he loved peanut butter.

“We should do this more often,” Victor said. Benji nodded. 

“I’d like that.”

***

Victor felt better than he had in a while after that lunch. The next day, with clouds hanging low in the sky and rain drizzling since yesterday, Benji led Victor by the hand--no one hit them today either--to the music room. They sat in the same spot yesterday and ate in silence--with the amount of peanut butter Benji put in their lunches, Victor was started to suspect he’d either told him how much he loved peanut butter or he just guessed--and they cuddled for a while. It was nice, just being able to hold hands without millions of thoughts racing through Victor’s head, cutting into his happiness and pulling him away from his boyfriend. He was able to just be here, be happy, and feel _ better _ . Benji had a strange effect on Victor; he was able to make him happy, always, no matter what. 

Victor especially liked it when they kissed and he got to run his hands through Benji’s long hair. It was soft, and his hair slipped easily between his fingers. Benji seemed to like it, too. He’d make these soft sounds in his throat that hit Victor square in the gut, right beneath where his father had kicked him. 

His bruises had faded. The wound was still wide open.

Victor rested his head in the crook of Benji’s shoulder, content to stay here for all time. He wouldn’t have to sleep forever if he’d be able to be held by Benji. 

Benji was humming softly, his face pressed into Victor’s hair. At first, Victor couldn’t place the song, until he recognized it as Shawn Mendes. Never Be Alone. 

Bizarrely, Victor started to cry.

He was so sick of crying. He’d been crying on and off for weeks now, full on sobbing all the time. He figured maybe it was justified, what with being kicked out of his house, apparently still being sick according to Felix, and still barely sleeping, but he just wanted a day without more tears. Just one day where he didn’t get so overwhelmed by emotion that he couldn’t even try to understand. Even so, he listened to Benji, and he cried for his family, and he cried for Felix, and he cried for Mia, and he cried for his boyfriend and his homophobic parents, and he cried for himself. God, Victor missed when he didn’t cry all the time.

Benji noticed his sniffles and lifted his head to look down at his boyfriend. He didn’t ask Victor what was wrong, just held his face in his hands and wiped away his tears and kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. 

“Will you sing for me?” Victor whispered, heat shooting down his neck from embarrassment. “Please?”

Benji nodded and went and grabbed a guitar from the back of the room. “This,” he explained on his way back, “is my school guitar, Regita.”

Victor furrowed his brows and sniffed. “Why Regita?”

Benji shrugged with a small smile. “The old music teacher was a bit of a Sound of Music fan.”

Despite everything, despite the weight on his chest, the tears on his cheeks, Victor smiled. “Will you play?”

With a small nod, Benji sat down in front of Victor and strummed a bit. He looked anxious. “I’m not the best at this song yet.”

Victor shrugged, excited to hear anything. “I’m sure it’ll be fantastic.”

Benji to a deep breath, sighed it out, and began to strum.

He plucked expertly at his guitar, strumming softly, creating music just for the two of them. And finally, he started to sing. “Love of mine/Someday you will die/But I’ll be close behind/I’ll follow you into the dark…”

Victor’s breath caught as he recognized the song. He knew, now, with these few words, exactly how much Benji understood him and what he needed. Benji had been here, too. Maybe not this exact place, but pretty damn close. He understood. And he was telling Victor right here, through this song, he would always be here for him.

Goddamnit, Victor was crying again. When would he stop crying?

He listened as Benji plucked deftly at the strings, sang in his rich tenor about love and eternity.  _ I Will Follow You Into the Dark… _

Victor knew it, now. He knew this was true. And he knew what he couldn’t ever deny: he loved Benji. He could have loved Benji this whole time. He would probably love Benji… forever. 

When he was done, Benji set the guitar down on the floor and Victor crawled forward, kneeling so he could kiss him. Benji’s hands were gently on Victor’s hips, though Victor had Benji’s face in his hands like he’d die if he ever let go. Victor felt it all over. He felt the love he had in his solar plexus, stretching through his whole body, flooding his veins, filling the holes in his body and healing the aches in his muscles. It pooled in his fingertips and toes, sang in his palms and lips, beat in the pulse in his wrists and neck and temples and pelvis. He loved Benji, sweet, ridiculous, intelligent, beautiful Benji. He’d follow him, too, wherever Benji asked him to, he’d go.

The bell rang all too soon, and the last thing Victor wanted to do was let go of his boyfriend, but he couldn’t afford to be late to class or get a detention. And once Victor was no longer touching Benji and Benji was no longer touching Victor, the feeling was gone. Victor could envision in seeping back, below his skin, retreating like a defeated army. Though, it stayed in his center, right where a bruise once was. Victor could feel that love, a beautiful shining gold cure him, heal him of his migraine and gently stitch up the wound inside him. 


	6. Picking at Scabs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No.

The next day, despite Victor’s permanent exhaustion and anxiety, he was in a good mood. He found a way to heal, having quiet days with Benji in quiet rooms behind closed doors, where no one could see the gold in his veins and no one could hurt either one of them for it. After only two days, the music room had become Victor’s favorite place in the school, too.

Despite this, today the sun was shining bright and high in the sky, and Benji suggested they go eat outside today. “We could eat alone if you want,” Benji was saying as he changed out the books in his locker for the books in his backpack. “I just think it would be good for the both of us to get some air. And it’s a beautiful day, V, I kinda just want to see some sky.”

And Victor, feeling the gold shimmering at the lines of his wound, slowly repatching skin cells together, healing all the pain in his body, finally thought it best to be out in the world. He was strong enough; he could defend Benji if he needed. 

They walked together to the picnic tables. Victor had his hands on his bag’s straps, though the only thing he could think about was how nice it would be to hold Benji’s hand as they walked to lunch. 

With two pairs of eyes, they managed to scour out a table that was empty and still shaded, the few there were left. As they sat, Victor couldn’t help but throw a pitiful glance at his old table, his old friends. Andrew had taken his old spot. 

Felix’s eyes caught on Victor, and he immediately stood and collected his things. He made his way over, even as Lake stared in confusion, and asked the two, “Can I sit with you guys?”

Benji gave him a big smile and said, “Of course, Felix. We’d be happy to have you.”

Felix sat down, laid his lunch out in front of him, and started eating. 

Victor’s heart swelled, and he could feel a gentle green pair with the gold singing in his bones, a big emerald repairing his infections. His love for his best friend could never truly be matched, no offense, Benji. 

Lake suddenly plopped down beside Felix taking out a sandwich from her lunch bag. Victor and Benji stared at her, and all she said was, “There’s more shade over here.”

Victor knew the truth; she wanted to be with Felix. He didn’t mind. He loved being with Lake. She had a different type of energy than he’d ever seen, big and demanding and entitled, and still soft and kind. 

On the bench next to Benji, Mia and Andrew took their own seats. Mia seemed to be giving the least amount of attention possible to the two on her right, but Andrew gave Victor a smirk smug enough to rival Thanos himself. He wasn’t sure what it was for or why he was here, but Victor didn’t care. He missed Lake, and he missed Mia, and if he had to deal with Andrew to have them back in his life, he would. 

“Victor,” Felix started around a mouthful of food, “isn’t it weird that you somehow dated the only two people at this school who haven’t ever called me Lonestone?”

Victor glanced between Mia and Benji before looking back at his friend. “Wait, really?”

Felix nodded as if this was normal. “Yeah. Most people did for a while. People still do.”

Benji furrowed his brows. “I didn’t know I was one of the only ones.”

Felix nodded. “It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.”

Victor glanced around the table at everyone. They all looked a little uncomfortable, especially Andrew. What, was he finally having a change of heart?

Lake suddenly dropped her head onto Felix’s shoulder and he kissed her head. “This is fun. Victor, how you doing? I haven’t seen you since the night you cheated on my best friend at the dance.”

Benji grasped for Victor’s hand under the table. The shimmering loves stopped moving. He was insane if he thought he wouldn’t have to do this at some point.

“Lake,” Mia warned, “I told you, it’s okay.” Victor held a hope in his heart. Maybe she’d forgive him after all? But then Mia continued, “I mean, well, no, it’s not, but you don’t have to do this. Please. I’d rather you don’t.”

Victor bit his lip and Lake nodded, just once, before going silent and turning back to her food. 

Victor felt too out of place. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be alive. He didn’t deserve friends, he didn’t deserve a boyfriend, he didn’t deserve a place to stay--

Benji leaned over and whispered into Victor’s ear, “Victor, listen, okay? You’re okay. I promise.” He pressed the gentlest kiss to Victor’s temple, then squeezed his hand three times. Victor was broken, and he was irreparable. But he loved Benji. 

He squeezed back three times. 

***

“Your silence is concerning,” Benji said. 

It was late, and both of them were closing up Brasstown. Victor was exhausted. He was underfed and underslept and had been in fight or flight mode since Andrew sat down at lunch. Victor was sure he’d need a whole weeks’ worth of sleep just to get over this one day alone. 

“I’m just tired,” Victor told him, and though it wasn’t a lie, Victor felt wrong for saying it. The lies had been piling inside his stomach, making it harder to eat. Victor missed the days before the trip to Willacoochee. He wished he’d never gone to New York. He wished he’d never come out. He wished he’d never kissed Benji.

Benji came over and ran a soothing hand down his back. “Why don’t you go home early, okay? I can finish up here.”

Victor bit his lip. He couldn’t afford losing forty-five minutes’ worth of pay, not to mention how unfair it was to Benji. Everything was so unfair to Benji.

Victor studied him for a while. There were light shadows under his eyes, and his hair and clothes were a mess. Well, more than usual. He looked pretty tired, too. Did Victor do that to him?

“Hey, Benji?” Victor asked softly. 

Benji tilted his head. “Yeah, babe?”

A sharp zing shot through Victor’s chest at the name, but he carried on, “Are you happy? With us? Be honest.”

Benji leaned against the table he’d been wiping down and seemed to think on that. “Well, I mean, yeah. There are things I wish we could do but I understand why we can’t. I want to be with you.”

“But  _ why _ ?” Victor pressed. “I mean, you could have so much with someone else, with Derek--”

“I told you, Derek and I wouldn’t have worked for much longer. And besides, I don’t want someone else, I want  _ you _ .”

Victor shook his head. “Benji, I’m a mess. I’m nothing--”

“Victor, don’t talk about yourself like that--”

“ _ It’s true, Benji! _ ” Benji went silent, and Victor took a shaky breath. “I’m hurting you. I’m not good for you.”

“Victor, please don’t do this, it’s just a rough start.” Benji pleaded. “I need you, V. Don’t do this.”

In a Herculean feat, Victor managed to shake his head. “I’m nothing, Benji.” His eyes were welling up with tears now.  _ God, _ Victor wanted to stop crying. “My parents saw it. I don’t want to be around when you see it, too.”

Benji was crying now too, his breathing ratcheting up a few notches. “Victor, come on, I know things are bad right now, but--”

“Benji,  _ nothing is good! Nothing! _ It hurts so bad. Everyday, it hurts so bad.” Victor wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore, but he knew he had to make Benji better. Benji needed to be made better. He couldn’t be hurt by Victor anymore. Victor needed to keep himself a safe distance away from the good things, Adrian, Pilar, his mom, Mia, Felix, Lake, Benji. He couldn’t poison the good things, too. 

Every pain he’d ever felt all came back at once. Victor missed his mom and he missed his siblings and he missed Simon and Felix and Benji and Mia and the person he used to be. Victor doubled over, struck suddenly by so much pain. Benji darted over and helped make sure he didn’t fall. There was so much fear in Benji’s eyes, and it was all Victor’s fault. It was all his fault. 

“Come on, Victor,” Benji muttered, holding tight to whatever he could reach. “Victor, please, I need you, I can’t lose you.” He pressed his forehead to Victor’s, steadying both their breaths. “I love you, Victor. Please, I need you. I want to help you, baby, please.”

Victor’s heart sank. He’d already hurt Benji so much. “Benji, I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Benji seemed to stop breathing, and Victor was reminded once again that Benji had done everything for him. He’d given up his boyfriend for him, his band for him, his food for him, his happiness for him. The memories made his stomach heave and he almost vomited on the floor. 

Benji gained his composure and, with great effort, told Victor, “You should go. I’ll finish up here.”

“No,” Victor’s voice was scratchy and weak, but he carried on, “no, Benji, I can stay and help--”

“I really don’t want you to.” His voice was dark and angry and tight. “I want you to leave.”

Without another word, Victor gathered up his wits and his things and left. He knew, realistically, this was the best thing for Benji. He wouldn’t be hurt anymore. No one would hurt him anymore. And maybe Benji would find someone else. He could go back to his band, go back to Derek. The thought of Benji being with Derek made something in Victor’s stomach sour, and he got so lightheaded he was sure this time he’d throw up on the sidewalk. The wind blew against his face and he was so sweaty and sad and he just had to remember this was for Benji. He could not be selfish. This was for Benji. 

And all that time the green emerald and the shining gold had spent sewing him back together was undone. His wound reopened. The green and gold were gone. He was more empty than ever before. He was a big Nothing walking down the street to Nowhere. And maybe that was where he belonged.

He was starting to wonder if he could ever be healed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry ://///
> 
> If y'all didn't hate me before........... ://///////


	7. Reopened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your support! I'm so glad this story touches you all the same way it does me!
> 
> I'm still thirsty for that attention and I love reading and responding to your comments!!

Victor hasn’t let down his guard in so long. 

The threat of someone hitting him loomed over him constantly, pushing down, down, down on his chest until it was nearly impossible to breathe. He ached with the pain of losing Benji. The force of it was always there, always threatening to break him. His father's words played in his head on repeat.  _ You’re a liar. You’re poison. _

Victor was disgusted by himself. How could he ever think he shouldn’t be?

The lunch bell sounded like a signal of death. Victor was even more lost without having Benji to sit next to. Was he allowed to sit with Felix still? Should he go to the music room for quiet? Would Benji be there?

Victor’s body hurt again, pain shooting up and down his legs with each step he took, a ring squeezing his lungs with each breath in, an ache in his chest where his heart should have been. There several places he could pinpoint as starting points of pain: his pelvis, his stomach, his left cheek, and his heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He had buried himself in lies and shoved himself down so deep in the agony he wasn’t sure he’d ever be pulled out. Everything was out in the open, the wound so big it consumed him. Maybe it’d been consuming him all along. Maybe the gold and emerald in his veins wasn’t helping him, but delivering more sick in his body. Because Victor was sick. He was just… sick. 

With a feat not unlike one of Hercules himself, Victor made it to the picnic tables outside. He didn’t have the strength to sit up for another forty minutes, and he found himself dropping under the shade of a tree, using his backpack as a pillow. He shut his eyes and was content to let the day, the week, the month, the century pass above him as the grass grew around him and the dirt accepted him as his own, but instead, something tucked itself carefully into his side before he heard retreating footsteps. He managed to open his eyes and caught the backside of a boy. Victor knew that ass; that was Benji’s ass.

Despite his whole body screaming out, Victor rose into a sitting position as best he could and reached down to see what Benji had left him. It was a paper bag, and inside, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, celery with peanut butter, a bag of hot Cheetos, a bottle of apple juice, two peanut butter cups, and a slip of paper. 

With trembling fingers, Victor reached inside the bag and pulled out the slip, his vision blurring as questions flew through his head. He shut his eyes and took a shaky breath to steady himself before opening the paper to read the contents.

_ With love. -B _

Victor’s face contorted, and he was at such a loss of what to do. Benji made him lunch. Benji knew his love of peanut butter. Benji knew  _ Victor _ .

Victor didn’t really want to be alive anymore. 

Felix dropped down at his side, talking a mile a minute. Victor’s brain was struggling to understand even a word, and after a minute of brain lag, he decided to give up. It took another minute for Victor’s brain to catch up enough to realize Lake, Andrew, and Mia were all there. 

He wondered, suddenly, if he looked as tired as he felt. Was it possible to look dead but still have a heartbeat? Did Victor still have a heartbeat? He pressed two fingers to the side of his throat just to be sure. Yep, there was definitely a pulse. It almost surprised him to feel it. 

He leaned back until his head hit the ground, and it felt strange. Even if he was just like this moments ago, lying vertically felt so wrong. Victor didn’t care. He’d stay like this forever as long as nobody made him move. And then, he’d just breathe until he could find the next moment he’d get to lay like this again. He’d get to rest again soon.

Benji said he loved him, but Victor couldn’t be the person Benji thought he loved. His father said he would always love him, but Victor couldn’t be the person he’d tried to raise. He wasn’t right for anybody. 

Victor dragged the lunch bag close to him and held it to his chest. He didn’t care if it was weird to cuddle a paper bag while laying on the ground in the middle of an outside cafeteria. It didn’t matter. He’d get to rest again soon.

He looked around at the faces around him. Felix looked concerned for him, his eyebrows creasing, his puppy eyes in full force. Lake, strangely, looked concerned, too, her mouth pressed together and eyes scanning over him like he was a scared stray. Mia looked like she was looking at the open casket of a dead loved one, grieving someone who wasn’t technically yet dead. Andrew had a look of deep resentment and triumph on his face. It was starting to drive Victor insane. He’d lost everything and Andrew had the nerve to look smug about it? Victor would be angry if it didn’t cost him so much precious energy. Behind him, though, was Benji with a broken heart so clear on his face that it struck Victor in his chest right down to his core. He had to look away.

He shut his eyes against all of them. He let his guard down. If someone hit him, so be it. If someone beat him, he wouldn’t mind. It wouldn’t be any worse than last time. He was too tired to keep caring. 

Although, strangely enough, no one hit him. No one touched him. No one shouted vitriolic words in his face, no one called him on his sins. It seemed nearly impossible, he’d sinned so much, how was it that no one seemed to care right then?

Time passed over Victor as he lay with his eyes closed, his arms holding the paper bag to his body. Eventually, too soon, Felix gently woke him to let him know class was starting again soon.

It would be okay, Victor knew it. He’d get to rest again soon. 

***

Silence used to feel oppressing to Victor. Like the morning after the motel incident in the car with Benji. He was silent the whole way home. Victor could barely stand it. 

He’d suffered through an everlasting silence after he came out. Silence used to hold monsters. Monsters under the bed, monsters in the closet, monsters in the shadows, monsters in the silence. Those monsters used to be Victor’s worst nightmare. Now, they seemed to be his best friends.

Silence meant no answer; no answer meant no heartbreak. He wondered if Benji ever thought how much better silence would have been the other night instead of… that.

Victor and Felix were sitting together that evening doing homework in silence, the state in which Victor thrived best, in his opinion. 

“Victor.”

One thing about silence, though-- silence could never last.

“Yeah, Felix?”

“How are you doing?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because--”

“ _ Felix _ .” Victor stressed. “Really. I’m fine.”

Felix nodded carefully. “Can I ask you something?”

Victor put down his pen and looked up at his friend. “What?”

Maybe he could’ve put it nicer, but there was no room for niceties now. Victor knew now: niceties didn’t exist in the real world. They were fake. It was all fake. 

Felix seemed to be mulling over his thoughts. Victor was about to give up waiting when he said, “Do you think, given how short of a time Lake and I have been together, it’s too soon to be in love?”

This startled Victor out of his depressed stupor. “You--  _ what _ ?”

Felix shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “I just… we get along really well. I love knowing her, and I love talking to her, and I love being with her. I love everything about her, but it’s only been a couple weeks. Do you think it’s too soon?”

Victor’s first thought was that love could only hurt, but he stuffed that down right away. This was Felix, not Victor. Good things could still happen for Felix. He hadn’t messed up too much. “I, um. I don’t know. It didn’t take long for me to think I was in love with Benji, though the time it took for me to understand and accept that was something else entirely. I thought I was in love with Mia about a month in, though I’m not really sure what that’s worth.” 

Felix gave a soft chuckle and the corner of his mouth twitched up. His smile was always so soft. “So, you don’t think it’s too soon?”

Victor shrugged. “I think if you really feel that way, time has nothing to do with it. But then, we’ve seen my past luck with relationships.”

“What about Benji?” Felix asked. Just the sound of his name was a pang in Victor’s chest. 

He shook his head and grasped for anything to change the subject with. “Hey, do you know how Mia’s doing? I just… I don’t know. I miss her.”

Felix nodded and took a minute to think. Eventually, he told Victor, “She’s still really upset about what happened. She only sits with us because she refuses to leave Lake, and Lake refuses to leave me, and I refuse to leave you.”

Victor had suspected this chain, but hearing Felix say it out loud was something else entirely.  _ I refuse to leave you. _ Victor coughed so it seemed less like he was going to cry, but Felix knew him too well by now. He squeezed Victor’s shoulder and waited with Victor for his feelings to pass. 

“Felix, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Victor cried, “you’re my best friend and I don’t know if I would be alive without you. It’s been really hard. I just… Thank you.” Victor wiped his face and gained his composure. “Thank you, Felix. For always sitting next to me. For opening up your home to me when you were afraid. For being here for me even when I don’t deserve it.”

Felix lowered his head so he looked Victor directly in his eyes. “You always deserve it.” 

Victor took a few steadying breaths while Felix waited, patient. Victor wasn’t sure what to say, and he desperately didn’t want to argue, so he opted to say nothing at all. 

Eventually, Felix took to filling to silence. “I feel like you should know, Victor, Benji came up to me the other day and asked me if I knew why you wouldn’t be more, um… open. With him. In public.” Felix gave him a sympathetic look. “Just wanted you to know.”

Victor sighed. “Honestly, Felix, I want to. But every time I think about it, and I think about being open with him, I just think about my dad. He hit me so hard when he found out the truth. What if someone saw us holding hands? What if someone saw us kissing, and they decided to do that? What if they hurt Benji? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” He shifted in his spot. “But, I mean, it doesn’t matter because we’re not together anymore.”

Felix’s back straightened almost like his spine had been replaced with a pole. “What? Why?”

Victor thought about telling Felix the events from the other day, but every time he thought about it, another hole opened up inside him. He couldn’t bear to think about it anymore. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Felix nodded. “Okay.” He pursed his lips, quiet, then said, “Have you spoken to Pilar?”

God, it was getting harder to hold a conversation. Deep inhale. Slow exhale. He could do this. Victor shook his head, “I haven’t spoken to anyone since that night.”

“What if we went down?” Felix immediately stood. “It’s been so long, and you’re such a good person, they have to miss you by now, I mean--”

Victor jumped up with more energy than he had in weeks. “No, Felix, absolutely not. If they want me back, they’ll make sure I know. My dad beat me. Pilar avoids me like the plague. Mom and Adrian probably forgot I exist. They don’t want me. I can’t deal with their rejection again.”

Felix nodded. “Okay. I get it.”

All the energy Victor had seeped out of him. He slumped back on the couch. “I think I need to go to sleep.”

Felix nodded again. “Okay.” 

He made sure Victor was comfortable, then went to his own room, and left Victor alone. Why was he so cruel to the people around him?

His phone buzzed next to him. A text from Simon.

Victor put his phone down, shut his eyes, and let the time pass.

***

_ With love. -B _

Fuck, Benji did it again. An excess in peanut butter, this time Takis, and cucumbers. Victor wasn’t sure why. He didn’t understand. Surely Benji was over him by now. There wasn’t much of him to care for in the first place.

Today, everyone was sitting around the table. One thing Victor  _ did  _ understand was that where he went, the rest of the group went, and he figured they’d prefer eating at a table instead of on the ground. 

Benji was sitting under the tree this time. Victor missed him. But Benji would move on. Maybe he already had. Maybe he was texting Derek right then.

Andrew was telling a story about basketball. Mia and Lake were listening with rapt attention, Felix was immersed in his phone, and Victor found himself sneaking glances at Benji every two seconds. Was he okay?

Everyone was interrupted by a sharp buzz, and they all shot a look at Victor, then glanced down at his phone. Simon’s name was across the top with his New York area code. Right. He had exchanged numbers with everyone in New York, though they rarely used them.

Lake perked up with interest. “Who’s Simon, and why is he calling you from New York in the middle of the day?”

Victor panicked. This was something no one knew about, not Mia, not Benji, not Felix,  _ nobody _ . “Oh, uh, a friend from Texas. He moved to New York a while back. We don’t really talk anymore.” And with that, he declined the call.

Lake looked even more interested. “You’re not going to answer?”

Victor shook his head. “I know what he wants to talk about.”

She leaned it, and both Mia and Felix pushed her back. She pouted, then smiled. “Spring break is coming up in two weeks!”

Victor’s head hurt with the idea of a full week in this routine. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it through. “Oh, good,” he muttered, though no one heard him over their own talk of what they’d do over break. Although, Andrew wouldn’t stop looking at him.


	8. If the Healing has not Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Simon even exist anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who gave me a heads up that I double posted a chapter! I was so confused for so long lol!
> 
> Thank you everyone for all the hits, kudos, and comments!! It fuels me!!

Words were being thrown over Victor’s head, excited words, passionate words. His table was talking about spring break. There was so much to do with nine days of freedom. 

Maybe Victor could convince Sarah to give him more hours. He could get more money and have more time with purpose. Maybe he could even convince Felix to let him pay rent. 

“Felix,” Lake was saying, “I have a gorgeous beach house in Little St. Simon’s Island. Mia and I are going over break and we really want you to come.”

Victor’s heart stopped. Felix’s was leaving? Victor wasn’t going to have a place to stay.  _ Felix was leaving? _

“Uh, Lake,” Felix began, eyeing Victor. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. My cousin is coming over and I haven’t seen him in a while.” 

Victor clenched his jaw. Now Felix was lying for Victor, too? And he was missing out on something as exciting as a private beach house for Victor? 

Victor’s voice shook as he said, “Didn’t you say that your mom told you you didn’t have to stay? If you had plans?”

Felix gave Victor a look. “No, she changed her mind.” 

Victor’s whole body was shaking now. He needed Felix to understand. He needed him to be happy. “No, she said she wanted you to have a good break.”

“I’ll have a good break  _ with my cousin _ .”

“But you’ll have a better one with Lake and Mia.”

Mia’s voice cut through the argument, “Is that Simon Spier?”

Victor could feel his organs shutting down in shock. “Wh-who?”

Everyone followed her gaze across the plaza where a small group of people were talking with Ms. Albright. And, sure enough, Simon was at the forefront, holding Bram’s hand. 

In fact, it was all of them. It was Simon, and it was Bram, and it was Kim, and Ivy, and Justin. Victor, for once, didn’t feel more pain; he felt at peace. They were like angels, five beautiful, wonderful, queer angels coming to take him home. 

Everyone was talking about them. Whispers erupted across the tables. Even Benji sat up with interest.  _ Is that Simon Spier? Bram Greenfeld? Are they here?  _ There were conversations similar to their own all over the place. Simon Spier was the only topic of conversation in the outside cafeteria. 

Mia’s voice cut through Victor’s thoughts, explaining, “Oh, Victor they’re sort of Creekwood legends. Simon was messaging this mystery guy, and their emails were put on Creeksecrets. He was outed. So, he wrote a message on the Tumblr proclaiming his love and sexuality, and he waited for his mystery man on the Ferris wheel. He rode it around until he came. Bram, the guy he’s holding hands with. And they had their first kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel.”

Lake gasped. “Aw, do you think this means they’re still together?”

Mia smiled. “I think so.”

“Why do you think they’re here?” Lake asked next. 

Mia shrugged. “Maybe they’re visiting their old school.” She suggested. “It’s probably spring break at NYU.”

Victor was overwhelmed. He’d almost forgotten how Simon came to be  _ the  _ Simon Spier. And how did everyone know what school they went to? Exactly how much of a legend were they? 

“Who do you think are the other guys with them?” Lake asked, leaning around to try to get a better view. 

_ That’s Ivy. That’s Kim. That’s Justin.  _ Victor ached with the truth, though he’d been keeping everyone, his friends, the  _ air _ in the dark for so long. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed them. 

He was wrong. Simon wasn’t useless. None of them were. They were exactly what he needed. 

Mia shrugged and popped a grape in her mouth. “I don’t know, maybe some friends?”

He needed to be held again, and he needed them to tell him he’d be alright. He needed to see he’d be alright. 

“I wonder what Simon's looking for,” Lake said, stealing a grape from Mia. 

Victor watched and, sure enough, Simon was spinning his head around trying to find something. Maybe someone. Maybe Victor. 

In a moment of clarity, Victor realized this was his community. Right here, all five of them. And they’d never let him go unless they knew he wanted to be, and it was because he was happy. 

Well, Victor had to come to terms with the truth. They’d never let him go. He was their friend. He was almost like their little brother. He was  _ their Victor.  _

For the first time since the Spring Fling, Victor was able to stand without his joints screaming in agony. He wasn’t sure what he’d do, but he had to know if they were here for him. He had to know if they still cared. 

“Victor,” Mia said. “What are you doing?”

Lake gave him a sharp look. “Victor, sit down, they’ll come over here. It’ll be weird.”

Victor didn’t pay attention to them. He couldn’t. What if Simon was looking for him? What if he cared  _ that much _ ?

Bram’s eyes connected with his first. He knocked his shoulder into Simon’s and gestured with his chin to Victor. Simon looked over, and the look of relief on his face was everything Victor needed to see. They were here for him. They were worried about him. 

They were his family. And he was their prefrosh. 

The group said their final goodbyes and made their way over. 

The plaza went silent as everyone watched the man, the myth, the legend talk to New Kid in the middle of lunch. 

“Good to see you’re still alive,” Simon said as they approached, and though his voice sounded hard, his face only showed concern. “We’ve been worried about you.”

Now, all five of them were in front of him and it’d been so long since Victor had an idea of what to do or where to go next. But now he finally did. He took a step forward and collapsed into Simon, bursting into tears. 

He’d held himself together for months, slowly fraying at the edges, and these past few weeks had been damn near impossible. But now, Simon was here, and everyone was here, and he didn’t have to shoulder his burden alone anymore. And, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure he could if he tried. 

“It’s been terrible, I don’t know what to do,” Victor sobbed. His face was in Simon’s shoulder and he wasn’t sure anyone could hear him, but he couldn’t really care anymore. The gate was open, and there was no getting it closed. “I hurt Mia so bad and I hurt Benji too and I hurt everyone! I got home after the Spring Fling and my mom and dad said they were separating and I told them!” Now Victor was crying too hard to continue, sobs racking his body like a hurricane. He’d known aches and pains and bruises, but he felt the force of these so hard his lungs could’ve burst through his rib cage. He couldn’t get a breath in to save his life. 

Bram came up behind Simon and ran a hand over his hair. “Breathe, Victor.” He said. He was stroking his hair so gently, a calm in the storm. 

Victor looked up at Bram, looked into his reassuring face and concerned eyes, and he found the strength there to breathe through the pain and breathe through the tears. He found the strength to keep talking. “I told them. I told I’m gay.”

Justin came over, then, and rested a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “What did they do?”

Victor was shaking again, shaking in Simon’s arms, and it never occurred to him to think about how cold he was. “My dad hit me. He punched me and he kicked me and he threw me out.”

The guys at Victor’s table sat up straight. Benji stood up behind him. Justin took Victor from Simon’s arms and held him to his chest, his own breaths shaky. “Oh, Victor,” he cooed, eyes wet, “you’ve gone through so much, haven’t you?”

“Are you staying anywhere?” Bram asked. “Do you have a place to stay?”

Victor nodded against Justin’s chest. “I’m staying with Felix.”

And it was as if he’d been waiting for his cue, because Felix stood up and held out a hand to Simon. “Hi, Felix, best friend.”

Simon had a smile on his face as he shook Felix’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Felix. We’ve heard a lot about you. All good things, of course.”

Felix looked touched, his puppy eyes working like magic on Simon. “Thank you.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Bram said, holding out a hand to Felix as well, “for taking care of Victor for us.”

Felix clenched his jaw like he was holding back emotion. “I’m just glad he finally told me the truth.”

“Victor,” Kim ventured, “how long were you on your own?”

Victor shrugged as Justin swayed back and forth, rocking slowly, calming him. “A couple days, I guess.” 

Simon sighed. “Come on, Victor. Let’s go see if we can convince Ms. Albright to let us take you out early.”

Victor went through the motions of gathering his things, putting together the contents of the lunch Benji had prepared for him with great care, slipping the note into his back pocket. He needed Benji with him. As much as he wanted Benji to move on, Victor needed him with him. 

Bram carried his things as they took him to Ms. Albright’s office. Simon did most of the talking since Ms. Albright loved him, and soon enough, they were leading Victor out of the school and to a sensible Audi in the parking lot. Simon jumped in the front seat, Bram in the passenger, and the other three piled into the back. Victor wasn’t sure where he was supposed to sit.

“Just sit on my lap,” Justin said, “you’ll be safe.”

Victor wasn’t sure about that, but he curled into Justin as best he could, laying his head on Justin’s shoulder as Simon pulled out of the parking lot. Suddenly, his eyelids were too heavy, and he let them fall closed. 

***

He woke up to light shaking, gentle on his shoulder. There were arms around his waist. Maybe he’d fallen asleep with Benji again. 

“Benji, no,” he muttered. 

“Victor,” it was Simon’s voice. “Victor, wake up.”

Reluctantly, Victor peeled his eyes open and looked up. Simon was there with his hand on his shoulder, Bram right behind him. He was still in Justin’s lap, his arms tucked into his chest. It was Justin’s arms around his waist. Victor wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad. 

Bram stepped forward and helped Victor to his feet, taking more of his weight than Victor would ever care to admit. He stared up at the tall sign in front of the modest-looking building in front of him. 

Simon put his arm around the both of them and said, “Welcome to WaHo.”

Victor stared up at the sign in front. One of the F’s was missing. “Waffle House?”

Simon nodded. “We used to hang out all the time here. Basically every night.” Then, he gestured them forward. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

Bram assisted Victor inside, and the six of them squeezed into a booth clearly meant for four. Victor was in the middle of Justin and Bram while Simon, Ivy, and Kim nestled into the other side. 

Victor studied the menu for a minute, nauseous and ravenous at the same time. He wasn’t sure if it was better to eat or not. “I don’t feel very good,” he muttered and wrapped his arms around his middle.

Kim narrowed a look at him. “How often are you eating, honey?”

Victor bit his lip. “I don’t know. A friend brings me lunch everyday, but I can never eat all of it. Felix makes sure I eat, but I don’t always feel good and he never pushes anything on me.”

Kim pursed their lips. “You need to eat more, dear. Just get something small. There’s a pork chop you and Bram could split.”

Bram gave them a look, but nodded at Victor. “Yeah. We can get you something small, and whatever you don’t eat, we can either take home or I can finish.”

Victor, exhausted and tired of fighting, nodded his agreement. “Yeah, sure. Okay.”

When the waiter came by and asked for their drink orders, Simon spoke up for Victor and asked for water and a hot tea. Victor was grateful he didn’t have to speak anymore. 

Justin wrapped an arm around Victor’s shoulders, holding him up; he hadn’t even realized he was falling over. Instead of trying to hold himself up any longer, he rested his head on Justin’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He was out in seconds. 

***

They’d woken him once their food arrived, and he picked at what he could before deciding his stomach was too queasy to continue. Bram convinced him to get it boxed for the road, and through his muddled brain, Victor found it within himself to agree.

He didn’t know where they went from here. Did they take him home? Was that even a place anymore?

“Where do you guys normally hang out?” Bram asked Victor as they piled back into the car. With each step, he could feel himself waking up. Maybe he’d just needed something more than a sandwich. 

“Um. Normally Brasstown. The cafe Benji and I work at,” He supplied as he got comfortable in Justin’s lap. He made sure to keep his head up. He missed them, and he wouldn’t sleep through any more time they had together. 

Bram turned in his seat to look at Victor. “I thought you said Benji moved after you kissed him.”

Victor nodded. He hadn’t told them about him and Benji yet. He wasn’t sure where to start. And, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what they had to say after hearing he’d broken up with him. “Yeah. He moved back.”

Simon nodded and started the car. “Well, then. To Brasstown.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all better be happy >:((( 
> 
> I'm so excited for you guys to read the next chapter!! It will hopefully be up soon!


	9. Hold Onto Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Open mic night with the pals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all,, just finished writing the next chapter and I nearly cried writing it, you're in for a treat, I tell ya

The first thing Victor saw was Benji behind the counter. Right. Benji worked on Mondays. He was moving so slow, sluggish. Victor wondered if that was his fault.

The next thing he noticed was Felix at a table. Victor glanced over. He wasn’t alone; Andrew, Mia, and Lake were sitting with him, all talking in hushed voices. 

Sarah, unfortunately, was manning the register. “Hey, Victor,” she called, “got yourself some new friends?”

Benji’s head shot up and his gaze immediately zeroed in on Victor. He looked sad and, beyond that, angry. Fuck, had Victor pissed him off, too?

“Uh, yeah, Sarah.” Victor led everyone to the register and Sarah already had his iced Americano cued up.

“What else for you?” She asked. She seemed to be in a better mood today; probably because Benji was back. 

Everyone else ordered and Victor fought to pay; he convinced them to go and Simon had paid at Waffle House, the least Victor could do was buy their drinks. Justin got his card in the chip reader before Victor. 

It took Victor another moment to realize everyone else was gone; they were all talking to the guys at the other table. At Felix’s table. Oh, he did not want them talking to Andrew.

He caught up with them just as Simon was shaking hands with Lake. 

They, of course, knew everyone at the table already from Victor’s messages with Simon, although none of them knew that. Up until this afternoon, no one knew Victor even knew Simon existed, let alone that they’d been talking all these months, and, even more, that they’d already met in person. 

The New York crew seemed ecstatic to meet everyone in person. 

“Felix, so nice to meet you again!” 

“Oh, hi Lake, so nice to meet you!” 

“Mia… I mean no offense by this, but, wow, Victor, I can see why she made you question your sexuality for so long.” (“Kim, please, stop.” “Oh, Victor, I just mean she’s a very beautiful girl.” “ _ Kim, please. _ ” “Oh, fine.”) 

“Andrew… Oh, Benji’s working today, how nice!”

Victor felt overwhelmed. His two worlds were colliding too closely, and they clashed at every angle. It was wrong. He wanted it to stop.

Mia suggested everyone pull up a chair or they all move to a bigger table. Coincidentally enough, everyone loved that idea. 

Victor sat between Simon and Felix as everyone bonded around him. He’d known these people for some time now, yet he felt extremely out of place as they spoke over his head. Lake, Justin, and Kim were talking about clothes; Mia, Felix, and Ivy were talking about Cards Against Humanity; Bram, Simon, and Andrew were talking about basketball-- well, Bram and Andrew were talking about basketball. Simon seemed content to listen and ogle his boyfriend from the side. Victor wasn’t quite sure he could fit into anything even if he tried. 

He considered getting up, making an excuse to go to the bathroom, when Benji called their order. Victor stood wordlessly to grab the drinks. 

“Hey, thanks, Benji,” Victor said softly. Benji didn’t answer, just put down another drink. Victor went to take it from his hands, but their fingers brushed, and they both dropped the drink in shock. 

“Shit!” Benji whispered.

“Oh, Benji, I’m so sorry, I’ll clean it up, I’ll make another.” Victor said, his breath hitching in his throat.

“No, it’s okay,” Benji tried to say, but Victor wouldn’t have it.

“No, I can make another, I’ll make another--”

“No, Victor,  _ Victor _ \--” Benji grabbed his hands, and everything in him stalled. His hands were still so soft. “It’s okay. I can clean it up. I can make another. It’s why I’m here.”

Victor stared at their hands together before he understood what that meant and pulled his hands away as if burned, heart pounding so loud he was sure Benji could hear it. It was a struggle, but he managed to nod. “Okay.” He studied Benji for a moment before he noticed coffee had splattered onto his apron. “Oh, you have coffee all over you, let me--” He grabbed a towel within arms reach and began sopping up the stains on his chest.

Benji seemed to have stopped breathing and whispered, “Deja vu, Victor.”

After a moment, Victor couldn’t help but laugh. “I think it was the other way around.”

Benji shrugged. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

Victor kept his eyes on Benji’s chest. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to worry you.”

Benji tucked his fingers beneath Victor’s chin and lifted his head up to meet his eyes. “Victor. I--”

“Benji!” Sarah shouted from the doorway of her office. “I’m not paying you to make out, I’m paying you to make drinks, man! Do it on your own time!”

Benji dropped his hand and gently pulled the towel from Victor’s grasp. “Thanks. I can finish up from here.”

Victor nodded and picked up the drinks that were out so far. “Okay. Don’t let it stain. Remember, dab, don’t rub.”

“Right.”

Wow, Victor fucked up. He screwed up bad. So, so bad. He was a monumental idiot.

The table was silent when he got back. Everyone seemed kind of amused. Andrew looked mildly uncomfortable.

“Victor?” Bram asked, trying to curb a smile.

Victor sighed, ready to subject himself to whatever torture was was ready on Bram’s lips. “Yeah?”

“‘Don’t let it stain?’”

“Yeah,” Kim added, “I thought you  _ were  _ trying to get into his pants?”

“Yeah, Victor,” Simon reluctantly added, “what was that?”

Victor sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

Everyone burst into laughter around him, and Victor was sort of relieved. He’d rather they laugh at him than openly humiliate him. 

Simon sobered up as much as he could. “Okay, okay.” The table gradually quieted down. Simon’s smile faded a bit, and he asked, “Victor? What happened the night of the dance?”

Victor’s smile was swept off his face at the question. He shrugged “I, um, I don’t know. It’s sort of complicated. There are, like, a thousand different little details that all add up to one big failure of a night.

“Pilar had found the note I gave Benji before I put it in his locker. She confronted him about it and he and his boyfriend got in a fight about it. I relieved the situation as best as I could, then went outside. Benji followed me and said he and his boyfriend broke up and… we kissed. And I guess Mia saw.”

Mia nodded. “You didn’t really just kiss. I wasn’t too close, but there was definitely tongue involved.”

Victor blushed. “I, um, I don’t know. It was a while ago.

“But I decided I would come out to my parents. And then, I went inside and everything was a mess and it was my fault. Mia was crying. Pilar was crying. I didn’t know what to do. Mia left with Andrew, so I took Pilar home. I was going to tell everyone the truth. 

“Before I could, Mom and Dad told us they were separating for a little while. And I had already told them I had something to tell them, and they remembered, so I told them.” Victor was crying now. “My dad, uh…”

Felix jumped in, “His dad beat him. He had a bruise on his cheek for, like, a week. And his stomach.” He shook his head. “Then he threw him out.”

Victor nodded and cleared his throat, then wiped his face dry. “My mom came out and gave me some clothes and my backpack and told me she’d find a way to make sure it was safe for me to come back as soon as possible, but she hasn’t done that. The first couple nights I slept in the backseat of their car. Then, Felix insisted I stay with him until future notice.” Victor shrugged.

Justin came around and hugged Victor from behind. “Oh, honey. These things hurt so bad, don’t they?”

He nodded and new tears welled in his eyes. “Everything hurts all the time. It always hurts.” He leaned back and let Justin hold him tighter. “I just want it to stop hurting.”

Simon gripped his arm, a fire in his eyes. “You are worth so much more than you think, Victor. You are worth so much.”

Victor shook his head. “I just want a day where I don’t feel like this. I want one night where I’m not worried someone is gonna hurt me or hate me. I want to stop feeling like this.”

Justin sidestepped his chair and kneeled in front of him so Victor could look at him. He wiped Victor’s tears away and said, “You deserve that. You deserve a night where you’re just a kid again. And, honey, I’m gonna make it tonight and every night until we leave, and you and Felix and everyone are gonna make it every night after that. You understand? You are not the head of the household. You are not an adult. You don’t need to be scared of whether you have a place to sleep or food to eat. You’re gonna be a kid again, Victor, and you’re gonna be you, out and open. Starting tonight. I promise.”

The thought scared him, but honestly, Victor could think of nothing that he’d rather do than have a fun night with his friends. 

Mia piped up suddenly, “There’s an open mic night tonight at 7. We could go.”

“I love it!” Justin said. He squeezed Victor’s arms. “Do you wanna go to open mic night, Victor?”

Victor glanced at the people around him. Mia and Lake, who were smiling at him. Andrew, who seemed oddly upset. Felix, his puppy dog eyes. Simon, Bram, Ivy, and Kim, who looked apprehensive. And Justin, who knew exactly how he felt. Justin, who wasn’t wearing a costume anymore. He wiped his tears away and said, “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

***

Brasstown was buzzing at 6:45 that night. The stage from Battle of the Bands was set up, though the lights were reduced and there was no sign. There was just a microphone, an amp, a small drum set, and a chair. Rather than the excitement from that night, there was a nervous energy in the room, soft murmurs, clinking of glass on plates. A tension from table to table as they wait for the clock to hit 7 and the show to start.

Somehow, Victor saw Benji in the crowd. He was sitting with a guy and a girl. He was sitting very close to the boy.

It was fine. Victor chose this. He wanted Benji to be happier. 

Lake led everyone to three high rise tables along the wall, then Bram and Simon left to get everyone drinks. Lake, Mia, Andrew, and Felix sat at one table, then Victor, Bram, and Simon at another table, and Ivy, Justin, and Kim at the other. Victor sat alone for a few minutes, and he couldn’t stop staring across the room at Benji. He missed him. He missed holding his hand and touching his hair and being the lone recipient of Benji’s most unique smiles, the soft ones, the careful ones, the dumb ones, the loving ones. Victor missed when Benji rolled his eyes at him but his lips were turned up in a grin. He missed the nights like Call Me Maybe. He missed the nights like in the hotel room and Benji told Victor things no one else knew, and when he was so close he could feel the warmth on his skin. He missed Benji. 

Benji was staring back, his lips weighed down into a frown.  _ No, _ Victor thought,  _ you’re supposed to smile. You‘re supposed to flirt with the cute boy next to you. You’re supposed to be happy. _

Something smacked onto the table and his shoulder, and Victor flinched so hard his head almost hit the table. Bram was spewing out apologies, Simon trying to check if he was okay, but all Victor could think about was that  _ Benji saw that _ . 

“I’m so sorry,” Bram was saying. “We thought you saw us coming.”

Victor shook his head, doing his best to reassure them both that he was okay. “It’s okay. After what happened, I guess I just… have some new and improved reflexes.”

Bram was frowning at Victor, eyes full of remorse. “I wish we could’ve been there for you.”

For a moment, Victor thought about saying  _ yeah, I do, too _ , but instead said, “The past is the past. You’re here now.” He sighed and looked down at his drink. “I’m sorry I stopped texting you guys. I was just in such a bad place, I guess I just figured it wouldn’t matter.”

Bram wrapped an arm around him and squeezed, kissing him on the head. “It’s okay, Victor. We understand.”

Sarah took to the stage. “Hello, everyone, welcome to open mic night! If you would like to come up, sing, speak, whatever you want to do, just come over to me and I’ll put you on the list. First we have Bella reading an original poem.”

Everyone gave a round of applause, and Bella opened up a small notebook and began to read:

“Love is a touch between hands   
Touched by two people, or by hundreds.   
Love is infinite,   
Flowing between blades of grass with the wind, sealed by a kiss.   
Love is a word with thousands of meanings,   
Or meant in a thousand ways with a soft ‘be safe,’ a ‘buckle up,’ a ‘please come home soon.’   
Love is the end all, be all of Greats.   
It has no rhyme or reason, and only one final Goodbye.   
And when boys kiss girls,    
Or girls kiss boys,   
Or boys kiss boys,   
Or girls kiss girls,   
It is all the same big, true, Great, Great Love.”

Her final words were meant by an uprising of applause, and Victor felt touched by her words. It was all the same love with only one goodbye. If Victor loved Benji, and Benji loved Victor, did that mean there was hope for them yet? Did that mean they could be happy together still?

Sarah called up the next person from her spot at the table, and so the night went on. There were good covers and bad covers, good poems and bad poems, raps, speeches, standup. Victor was content here listening to people sing and speak for eternity. 

“Next up is With No Name, a new band fresh from an old one, doing a special cover,” Sarah said into her microphone. 

Benji and the two people with him stood and made their way to the stage. Victor was an idiot; those two were people from his band. Maybe Benji was dating another band member, because last time went so well. 

Benji had his guitar, the girl was on another guitar, and the boy was on the drums. Benji put his mouth to the mic and said, “Hi, we’re the new and improved Sticky Beaks, With No Name, and this is a cover of Hold Onto Me by Mayday Parade.” He looked like he was about to start, then said, “This is for someone really special to me. Things have been really bad right now, and I mean every word I sing.” He looked directly at Victor and said, “And to that person. I hope the bad passes soon. I love you.”

Victor’s heart seized, and everyone in their group plus a few others turned to him. Sarah did, too. 

Benji nodded to the other members in the band, then played an opening melody. They played together until Benji started to sing. “I know I’ve got my problems and it starts with me/He saw something inside that I can’t see/And late at night, yeah, he’ll comfort me./Hold onto me, hold onto me.”

Victor couldn’t tear his eyes away. Benji was looking at him, singing right to him, and it hurt so much but Victor wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I got a nervous habit and I drink too much/He said he hates his life and wants to change his ways/He wakes in the night and whispers oh, so quiet.” His voice was so rich, so soft, so full of pain.

The room was silent as his voice echoed off the walls. 

“Hold onto me, hold onto me.” The music picked up, and the boy got started on the drums, and Victor started to understand exactly how much this song was going to rip his insides apart. “Don’t you ever leave, don’t you ever leave.” Benji was pleading to him, begging. Victor didn’t know how to fix it. “I know I’ve got my problems and it’s probably me./But hold onto me, hold onto me.”

Now the music was starting to really pick up, and Benji was lost in it. He was so beautiful when he sang. “Stayed up too late and it hurts to breathe/He said it’s four a.m. go back to sleep/Sometimes at night I can hear his dreams…”

Bram took Victor’s hand. They both were crying. 

“Come rescue me, come rescue me/Don’t you ever leave, don’t you ever leave/I know we got our problems and it’s probably me/So hold onto me, hold onto me.”

Benji was crying out for help. Victor wished he knew how to help him. 

“I’m a drifter’s body in an open see/And I’ve seen my reflection staring back at me/With no place to go and you’re left all alone/There’s no place like home.” 

A quick look around confirmed everyone Victor could see was crying. He did a double take when he saw Andrew; he was blinking back tears, too, sniffing so no one would notice. Victor saw; Victor noticed. His eyes flicked back to Benji just in time to see him lean his head back before singing again. 

“Hold onto me, hold onto me/Just stay with me, just stay with me/I know we’ve got our problems and you’ll probably leave/But hold onto me, hold onto me!” 

His voice cracked with emotion as he belted out the words. The notes seemed to flow through Benji to Victor. Benji was lost, and now Victor was, too, and the whole place seemed lost. They must have been traveling between dimensions while Benji sang. 

“I could never leave, I will never leave!”

The light reflected in the tears on the band members’ cheeks. 

“So hold onto me, hold onto me.” 

The song ended in a painful final chord as more tears slipped onto Benji’s face. There was silence, then, a beautiful gift. Sniffs sounded through the crowd as Benji seemed to come back to himself and Brasstown landed back on earth. No one moved. 

Victor took his hand away from Bram’s and started clapping. Everyone followed suit, and soon people got to their feet as they cheered. 

“Uh,” Benji cleared his throat and spoke over the crowd, “thank you.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat again. “Thank you. We are With No Name. Thanks.” He gave a quick wave and led the band offstage. 

And Victor felt it, then. 

Shimmering gold love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna listen to the song included in the song, it's called "Hold Onto Me" by Mayday Parade it's a sad bop it's fantastic  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODPgSDOgCHY youtube link if you wanna take a listen :))))


	10. When the Brain Gets Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pink is a soft color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll just drop this here.
> 
> Edit: Thank you so much to r/differentsnowflake for pointing out some translation issues! Much appreciated!!
> 
> Also idk how to @ ppl on this website so we'll see

The air outside was hot and humid, and the lights were bright on Victor’s skin. The New York crew and Georgia gang had both congregated around him. The whole crowd was in tears and Sarah suggested they take a break. Everyone shuffled out of Brasstown; Victor’s friends cornered him outside the door. 

“So, what was that about, Victor?” Simon asked. 

Victor knew, realistically, they were all curious. They all meant well. Despite this, all he saw were interrogators. He couldn’t help but wonder, how many people could say this was their last sight before leaving this earth?

He closed his eyes and breathed. These were his friends… and Andrew. They wouldn’t hurt him. And they would leave him alone if he asked. They would do anything if they knew it would make him feel better.

He opened his eyes again, and all of them were looking on with concern, and apprehension, and hope. 

“Benji and I were together for a while, but I wasn’t right for him. I broke up with him.”

Simon furrowed his brows. “You broke up with him because _you_ weren’t right for _him_?”

Victor nodded and Justin chuckled. “Girl, I’m not sure he agrees.”

“I’m not a girl-- look, can we drop it?”

Bram looked at Victor very carefully. “Do you love him, too?”

Victor pressed his hands to his thighs so they’d stop shaking. “What?”

“On stage, Benji said he loves you.” Bram explained. “Do you love him?”

Victor leaned back against the wall and swallowed. “I think so.”

“Victor,” Bram took a step forward, a smile on his face. It wasn’t one of pity, but one of understanding, and one of excitement. “He loves you. He wants to be here for you, and he wants you to rely on him. That’s part of being in a relationship.”

“But… what if I hurt him?” This was one of the worst things Victor could do. He’d already done a few of them already: hurt Mia, hurt his family. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand himself if he ever managed to hurt Benji, too.

Bram didn’t seem worried, though. “You talk about it, and you understand, and you grow.”

Victor was so tired. “Can we go? I need to think, and I need to sleep.” 

Bram nodded and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Yeah. You got time, Victor. It’s okay to be confused. It’s part of being a person.”

Victor nodded. “Okay.”

It was worked out that everyone would stay for a little while longer and Simon would take Victor and Felix home. Victor’s stomach twisted at the thought of making Simon leave.

“I’m sorry,” He told him, but Simon didn’t seem to mind. 

“I’m just glad I get to drive again. There’s no driving in the city.”

Victor wasn’t sure if he should believe that, but he was too tired to really care. He’d had a long day, and while it was nice and he’d had a good time, he was glad to be heading home and getting some sleep.

“Thank you, Simon. For everything.”

The corner of Simon’s mouth quirked up. “I’m just so glad you reached out to me.”

***

The next night, as the sun was setting, Simon and Bram led a group of five up the sidewalk of a nice suburban neighborhood. And five was correct, because beside Victor stood Benji, looking rather uncomfortable in his leather jacket and a group of gays he has not been formally introduced to.

Benji looked good tonight. His hair was combed carefully to one side, and he had the aforementioned leather jacket on over a tight white v-neck, a pair of acid washed jeans with chains hanging from the belt loops and a pair of black beat up combat boots. Every time Victor looked at him, his mouth went dry. Benji looked _good_. And Victor wasn’t ever one to deny that fact, but tonight it would’ve been damn near impossible to even try. He constantly got lost thinking about how good Benji looked all the time, in t-shirts, his tux at the dance straining against the muscles in his arms as he moved, the clothes he’d tried on at the thrift store in Willacoochee… Victor needed to stop thinking. 

It occurred to him, suddenly, that he and Benji were ex-boyfriends. Benji was his ex. Victor was Benji’s ex. Although, they’d barely been together for two weeks. Victor knew some people didn’t even consider that a long enough time to count someone as an ex. Did Benji want Victor with the chance that this might happen again?

Without another moments’ thought, Victor grabbed Simon’s wrist and held him back while the rest moved on. He waited until the group was out of earshot before saying, “Look, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but why is Benji here?”

Simon glanced over at the group. “We figured it’d be good for you two to spend some time together.”

Victor sighed. “But, Simon, we’re not together anymore.”

“We can change that,” Simon said. He gave Victor a wink, then headed back to the group. 

“Simon, _no_.”

***

The house was beautiful. It looked big from the outside, with three cars in the driveway and big windows facing out every direction and a beautiful front door. Simon opened the door and gestured them all inside; Bram led the way.

“Mom! Dad!” He called once he stepped inside. “We’re here!”

A thin, beautiful white woman came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Bram, hey!” She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, which he readily returned. Simon came up behind his boyfriend, and the woman embraced him just the same as she did Bram. 

“My two boys back home!” She said, elated. “Who would have thought?”

Simon rolled his eyes and began introducing each person to the woman in front of them, and finally, “And this is Victor, the one I told you about.”

Her smile somehow became even brighter and she gave a little gasp. A man jogged in, a girl around Victor’s age behind him. “I hope you haven’t started introductions without me.”

With ten people in one little space, Victor was starting to find it _very_ hard to breathe. 

Somehow, the saint she must have been, the woman picked up on that and suggested everyone move to the living room. She waved them in, giving Victor a gentle pat on the shoulder as he passed. She told him quietly, “Don’t worry, honey, you’ll always be safe here.” The words, confusing as they were, brought him a deep comfort as he found himself seated between Benji and Justin, and, wow, it almost looked like they planned that. 

Victor gave Bram a look, watching him get comfortable on the couch with Simon. Bram held his hands out as if to say he had nothing to do with it, but his face was that of someone who had been caught guilty. 

They went over introductions again for the benefit of this man who so clearly took pride in being a father with his level of White Fatherly Things. He mixed up names on purpose and on accident, and there were a lot of shoulder smacks and loud bits of laughter coming from him. It reminded Victor nothing of his father, but it made him miss him just the same. 

Finally, Victor was able to put a name to the people in front of him: this was Emily, Jack, and Nora Spier. This was Simon’s family. 

Victor remembered when he had one of those. 

Simon sat forward and looked at Victor and Benji. Bram seemed to pout behind him and sat forward, linking their arms together, smiling again. Simon smiled, distracted, and looked at Bram. He leaned over and kissed his cheek quick, not quite soft but still loving all the same. Bram, seemingly content, dropped his head on Simon’s shoulder and let him carry on.

“Victor, Benji, these are my parents. And I cannot tell you how important it was to me that they supported me when I came out, and, as I understand it, neither of you really had that, did you?”

Victor averted his gaze to the ground. Somehow, he felt ashamed. Wasn’t he supposed to have a family that loved him through anything? A sister that didn’t shun him after he came out, but accepted him and stood by him instead? A mother and father who sat together, hand in hand, listening to what he had to say and loving him, not despite it, but _because_ of it. A father who stood by his son until the end of his days. Why had Victor not been afforded that luxury? Why not Benji? Why not Justin? Why not every queer kid in the world who just needed their parents to tell them that it would be alright?

_Why not him?_

Benji swallowed hard and shook his head. “No, we both have been kinda short in that department.” He tried to give a smile, though it only looked like a grimace.

Simon leaned forward even more. “You both deserve that. You both deserve to have parents who will be here for you, always. A family that will love you and protect you. A family that will stand by you.”

“This,” Kim jumped in, “is our family.” They gestured to the two parents and daughter sitting on the opposite couch, along with their gay son and his POC lover. The picture was, honestly, powerful in Victor’s eyes. “They’re your family, now, too.”

Victor looked at all the faces around him. Benji seemed to understand what was happening, and tears were welling in his eyes, and was Victor going to cry, too? Had Victor not shed enough tears for a lifetime?

“I don’t understand.” Victor said plainly. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Kim cocked their head to the side. “These two are my mom and dad.”

“They’re my mom and dad,” Justin jumped in. 

“And they’re my mom and dad,” Ivy added. 

“And now,” Simon said, “they can be yours, too.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “If you want.”

Victor didn’t think he had a very good track record with the whole ‘family’ thing post-coming out. With a look around, though, he realized that wasn’t true. Maybe his own parents didn’t love him, his own sister didn’t want him, but these people did. They were _asking_ for him. Could Victor really deny himself the luxury of another family?

“Victor,” Emily sat forward and gingerly touched his knee. “I know you’ve been through so much. Simon told me a little bit, but not everything, though I don’t think I need everything to understand you went through a lot. But you need to understand this.” She scooched forward until she was at the very edge of the couch and took both of his hands in hers. “You are perfect the way you are. And you will have your family, even if you don’t want it to be us, you will have one. And you will be so, so happy, Victor. You’ll look back at this time, and you’ll understand that _this_ is where you were going. This, too, will find its place, honey.” She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. “You, too, will have your place.”

And this was the final straw. He fell into Emily’s arms, crying and sobbing and shaking, and she held him through all of it. “I’m so sorry,” he belted, “I’m so sorry. I hate it so much, I never wanted it and I don’t want it. It hurts so much. I wish I could change. I want to change so badly and I would give anything to change. I kept begging God to change me. I just wanted to be normal. I wanted to be free of disease. I’m so sorry, Mami. I tried to change. Traté de cambiar, Mami. No funcionó. Solo quería que funcionara.”

Emily just held Victor as he cried, as he let out the hurt in him, the poison in his head that had turned his days into nightmares. He wasn’t sure what he was saying by the end of it, wasn’t sure if it was in English or Spanish or both or neither, but it didn’t matter. She understood what Victor meant. She understood what he was saying. She was crying into his hair and Victor wasn’t sure when it happened, but everyone was gone. It was just Emily and Victor. They were alone, and Victor had a mother. He had a mother.

“Victor,” Emily said through tears, “listen to me.” She pulled away and held a hand to his cheek, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead with the other. “You are perfect the way you are. You don’t need to change. You don’t need to wish to be different. And you don’t have to apologize for who you are. So many people love you for exactly the person that is, honey. I love you for the person you are right now. The world needs the Victor Salazar that you are, not the one people are trying to force you to be, not the one you think you need to be. The one you are, right now. You are perfect, honey.” She pulled him tight to her chest, repeating over and over, “You are perfect just the way you are, Victor.”

Victor wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, but it was long enough to squeeze every last tear out of him, and yet he still kept going. But these weren’t sad tears anymore. He was at peace.

Victor Salazar was so, so content where he was. 

A gentle pink washed over him, twinkling in the light of the lamp and the brightness of Emily Spier’s smile. It woke up the gold and green lying dormant in his chest, and they exploded like fireworks right next to his heart. He was filling with colors.

He was healing. 

***

Victor sat alone on the couch, exhaustion settling deep in him. Although, this was not the bad exhaustion. This was not the constant tired, lack of energy he’d been feeling for weeks. No, this tired was matched by a sweet, gentle contentment forming around his heart like a suit of armor. He’d begun to forgive his family. He’d begun to forgive his father, his mother, his sister. But mostly, Victor had finally begun to forgive himself.

Benji found him there sometime later, eyes red and face wet. He sat beside Victor, though a good distance apart.

“The Spier family got me, too.” He chuckled softly. “Jack, uh, he and I talked for a while.”

Victor looked over at him, waiting for him to continue. Benji looked so sad, so raw, but so much more at peace than Victor had ever seen him.

“There are things I figured would have been… nice to hear,” Benji said. His voice conveyed nonchalance, though his face said anything but. “I never thought I’d get them, but it would’ve been nice.” Benji paused again, then took a deep breath. “I never realized how much I needed to hear those things until Jack was saying them, you know?”

Victor nodded. “I definitely do.”

“It’s weird, because my family isn’t as… bad as yours. I’ve never felt completely disowned by my family or my dad. But I guess I thought… I don’t know. Maybe I wouldn’t have a real father anymore.” Benji sighed and regarded him silently before saying, “Why’d you break up with me? I mean, I thought I was being… good.”

Victor blanched. “You were. I guess that’s sort of why. It hurt so bad all the time, and you were so good to me, and I got it in my head that you weren’t happy. That I wasn’t enough for you.” He picked at a cuticle and scoffed at himself. “I guess I screwed up too much, huh?”

Benji scooted closer and leaned in a bit. Victor’s heart skipped a beat. “Absolutely not, Victor Salazar. I miss you everyday.”

His breath caught in his throat. “Really?”

Benji raised a brow at him. “Really.” 

Victor’s muscles ached with the force it took to keep himself from reaching out and grabbing Benji by his perfect hair and kissing him. “Benji?”

“Yeah, Victor?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I’d really like it if you did.”

With extreme self control, Victor sat forward and pressed his lips to Benji’s, his hands immediately finding their places in his hair and on his neck. His hair slipped between Victor’s fingers, soft but willing to tangle themselves around Victor’s fingers at his will. Benji kissed back with fervor, his own hands landing on his waist. Benji’s lips were so soft under Victor’s and his hands were so gentle on Victor’s skin and he kept doing this thing with his chin that slowly drove Victor mad and how Victor ever thought he’d go the rest of his life without kissing Benji, he wasn’t sure, but he certainly was insane. 

There was a loud cheering from the dining room, and the two boys broke apart in shock. They stared at each other, their breaths mingling between their mouths as they both struggled for air. 

“Victor.” Benji pleaded. “Please don’t leave me again. I need you.”

Victor shook his head. “Never.”

In the kitchen, squeals of delight mixed with chants of their names. So it seemed their family found out.

***

Simon’s family held Victor and Benji like they were their own. Victor and Nora bonded over class and baking while Jack took it upon himself to teach Benji how to make his special rice pilaf that they were having for dinner. Justin and Emily were sitting at the dining table, crying. Justin seemed to be ranting, pain in his face as he told her undoubtedly about his homophobic religious upbringing and how hard it had been in the past. 

Nora was cracking up laughing as Victor regaled her of a story of trying to teach his little brother how to make pancakes when Victor realized that he wouldn’t have met these people if he weren’t gay. He wouldn’t have messaged Simon if he weren’t struggling with his identity and, in a fit of frustration and jealousy, reached out to him calling him on his privilege. He thought back to earlier that night when Simon kissed Bram’s cheek; he looked like he had everything he ever needed. He looked like he had everything in the world as he looked into another boy’s eyes. Did Victor look like that when he kissed Benji? Did he have the same hearts in his eyes as Simon? 

Nora sobered up a bit and said softly, “I bet you miss your little brother, huh?”

Victor gave her a sad smile. “You have no idea. He’s so special and unique. He steals my mom’s hairdryer to warm his pj’s every night because they’re ‘too cold.’” He gave a chuckle at the fond memory. “He’s such a good kid. So intuitive and smart, but he doesn’t care what Dad or Abuelo say about him playing with girls’ toys or acting more… I don’t know, girly.”

“Feminine,” she aided, nodding. 

Victor nodded, too. “Yeah. He was his own person.” He pursed his lips. “More than I could say about myself.”

Nora tilted her head at Victor and rested a hand on his bicep. “That’s not true, Victor. Maybe you had to hide some parts of yourself, but that was for your safety. You can’t discredit who you had to be and how much of that was still you.”

Victor looked down at her earnest face, her painted nails, her hand resting so openly on his arm. “Thank you.”

She squeezed his arm. “You’re welcome. And, hey,” she gave him a bright smile, “if you ever need a chem partner you can always come to me.”

Victor nodded, delighted. “I’ll definitely remember that.”

***

That night, Victor made his way up to Felix’s apartment. It was almost 10:30, but he’d never felt more awake. He’d never been happier. There was no way he could sleep now. 

He paused on his old apartment’s floor, his hand on the railing. His heart started pounding and his breath began to quicken and shallow before he even had his first thought. But then, it was there, and it took all of him to keep from falling on his face. 

What if he knocked on the door? 

What if? What would happen? He knew no one was asleep yet. 

Victor wondered, suddenly, if Armando ever left. Maybe he’d insisted on staying in case Victor ever tried to come back. Maybe he’d insisted on protecting his family from his own son. 

Maybe it was time Victor knew. 

He missed his mom. He ached for her, and he ached for Pilar, and he ached for Adrian, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he ached for his father. He missed them. He missed what they were. 

He no longer had remorse over telling the truth. He just wished they would accept him. 

It was a conscious thought, a conscious decision. 

Victor made his way to the door. 

His feet felt like they were made of lead, his brain of helium, his arms of brick. There was adrenaline pumping from his heart going to nowhere. Victor wondered if this was what it felt like before a heart attack. 

He lifted an arm of brick to the door and pressed the rock knuckles to the wooden door. 

_Por favor, mi familia_ , he thought. _Acéptenme de regreso, por favor. Por favor._

He would do it. He’d knock. He’d demand to speak to his family. 

It hurt to hold his arm up any longer. His knees hurt holding him up. It felt like he’d swallowed stones. 

He had to do this now. He had to do this _now_. 

Victor dropped his hand to his side. He backed away, fear coursing through his veins, and he did exactly what he had to do. 

Victor walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translation: 
> 
> Traté de cambiar, mamá. No funcionó. Solo quería que funcionara.: I tried to change, Mom. It didn’t work. I just wanted it to work.
> 
> Por favor, mi familia. Acéptenme de regreso, por favor. Por favor.: Please, my family. Take me back. Please.


	11. I'm No Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship :))))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know anymore I can't stop thinking about this show or this fic someone help ahh

Victor stood, dribbling the basketball slowly on the empty court, sweat dripping down his forehead, before he took a shot. The ball bounced off the backboard, spun around on the rim, before slipping into the net and dropping to the floor. Victor jogged forward and snatched the ball out of the air after the first bounce off the floor. 

The gym doors opened behind him, and he looked up. Mia was walking across the court to him. The distance between them was closing, and Victor was terrified of what that meant. He felt his pulse quicken under his skin. Why was she here?

She looked good today. She was wearing a nice yellow dress with a black cardigan over it with a pair of clean white Converse. Mia was a sweet comparison to Victor’s sweaty t-shirt and gym shorts. They were standing there, opposite each other, two contrasting points of a million worlds, four feet away, convening on one single point: the basketball in Victor’s hand. 

Mia was staring at that instead of his face as she said, “Victor, we need to talk. Please.”

His nerves were singing in every joint, every muscle, and he dribbled the ball as a way to distract himself. “Okay. What’s up?”

She took a step forward, watching his hands as he bounced the ball against the floor. “I never knew things were so hard on you.” She bit her lip and continued, “I thought, when you kissed Benji, that it didn’t mean the same thing to you that it did to me. I thought, this whole time, that you were happy. But you’ve been hurting this whole time, haven’t you?” 

Victor nodded. “This whole time I just couldn’t fully be myself. I couldn’t be the person I wanted to be. I wasn’t even sure who that was for so long.”

Mia nodded. “I get it. For so long I didn’t think I ever could. I didn’t think I could ever forgive you. But I get it now. I get why you did what you did. I mean, the cheating thing is sort of harder to get over, but I get why you kissed him.” She looked him in the eye and said, “That must have been the one time you were really happy, right?”

“It’s not that I was unhappy with you. But I couldn’t be… right. With you. I don’t know how to explain it.”

One corner of her mouth lifted in a sympathetic smile. “I understand.”

A weight lifted off Victor’s shoulders. Mia forgave him. Mia still loved him. The relief took over him like a wave, lifting him off the ground. He gave her a watery smile. “I’m so glad.”

She matched his smile with one of her own. “I will always love you, Victor. You’re really important to me.”

Her love was purple, a bright gleam among the yellow and green and pink reviving his cells and sewing him back together. Stitches and staples colored in glitter and shine we’re slowly putting him back together. 

Victor, feeling unbelievably awkward, dribbled the ball a few times. “I feel the same about you, Mia.”

Her eyes crinkled with the force of her grin. “Good. Maybe we can find a way back.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He dribbled the ball again, though this time he didn’t feel awkward, only happy.

Mia’s smile turned mischievous and she reached out and snatched the ball from midair. Victor’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t help but laugh, incredulous.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” He said. She laughed, too.

“Well, you’re not the only one who can play ball.”

Victor lunged forward, and they ran around on the court. Mia never dribbled, and neither cared which basket they threw it into, and Mia scored maybe once, but Victor wouldn’t have it any other way. He was so happy Mia was back in his life. 

She danced away from him, laughing as she held the ball out of his reach. He laughed too, calling, “Stop traveling!”

“What?” She shouted back as she bounced away. “Can’t hear you!”

Victor ran forward and picked Mia up around the waist and threw her over his shoulder, charging down the court. She let out a brilliant laugh and dropped the ball, squirming in his arms as she yelled, just for the hell of it. She shrieked, and Victor dropped to the ground onto his back, Mia falling safely onto his body. They were both laughing as they tried to catch their breaths, and Mia was slowly crushing Victor’s lungs, but he didn’t care. He loved Mia so much in this minute, he almost wished they could stay this way forever. 

Mia rolled off Victor and onto her back and they both laid there, panting, smiling. Victor was just so unbelievably happy.

“Hey, Victor,” Mia breathed, “can I ask you something?”

Victor nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see it. “Yeah.”

Mia waited a beat, then sat up and pulled her knees up, finally catching her breath. “If you could go back in time, what would you change?”

Victor sat up, too. “Well, what are the grounds here? Am I going back and telling our past selves some advice, or am I going back and reliving everything?”

Mia shrugged and looked over at him, laying her cheek on her knees. “You choose.”

“Well,” Victor started, “if I’m going back and reliving everything, then I wouldn’t ask you on a date. I’d ask to be your friend. And I’d let whatever feelings I had for Benji, just, happen. And I’d accept myself and my sexuality sooner. And I’d hope he dumped his sorry ass boyfriend and we could date. I’d wait to tell my parents until I knew I’d be safe no matter what. I’d let myself fall in love with Benji sooner and realize we’re better together no matter what.”

Mia’s eyes bulged, but she said nothing and let Victor continue.

“If I’m giving us advice, then…” Victor thought on this before saying, “If I was giving advice to myself, I’d say to just... be myself, and not worry about the rest. To not be so scared. To Benji, I’d say that Derek is abusive and he would be much better without him, and maybe I’d be better for him. To Lake… I’d tell her not to worry about the rest of the world and only worry about what she wants. To Felix, I would thank him for being a good friend and I’d tell him to never stop being himself. To Andrew, fuck you.” Mia laughed, and Victor did, too, before he went on, “And be the person he wants to be instead of the person he thinks he should be. To Mia--” he paused. How did Victor put this? “To Mia… Never doubt how amazing you are. Never doubt how funny or smart or beautiful or interesting you are. Give people second chances, give people first chances. And never settle for less than what you deserve.”

Mia tried to smile, but, as she blinked a couple times, it didn’t seem in her. She stood and walked across the court. Victor drew his knees up and sagged. He’d thought what he’d said was nice, but maybe it made her upset.

Although, Mia came back and handed him the basketball then sat back next to him. “I thought I'd be mad at you forever.” She told him, “But I don’t think I’m mad anymore. I understand. And I want you to be happy.” 

Victor sighed. “I want us both to be happy.” 

Mia paused and seemed to decide whether she’d say something, then asked, “Do you regret it? Coming out to your parents?” 

“Honestly?” Victor took a deep breath and told her, “No. I know it's weird but it would happen sooner or later. I'm lucky I'm in a good position to have a backup since things went so wrong. And they deserve to know the son they thought they loved.” 

Mia tilted her head, sadness pinching her eyebrows and filling her eyes. “I know they'll love you, Victor. I've seen their love for you.” Victor nodded. Her voice was soft as she added, “And I forgive you, by the way.” 

And with that, Mia stood and went toward the door, calling over her shoulder, “Have fun with your practice.”

Victor wasn’t sure how to feel. Mia forgave him, but the conversation made him so sad. 

He laid back on the court and let a deep purple course through his veins, nestled against the green and gold and pink nursing him back to health.

***

Bram picked Victor up not long after Mia left. Victor had lain on the floor for so long that he didn’t notice time passing and he didn’t have a chance to shower, though Bram didn’t seem to mind.

“I do the same things.” He told him. “Drive Simon insane, but he’s not here right now, is he?”

Victor gave a polite chuckle as Bram pulled out of the parking lot. “I didn’t know you drive.”

Bram shrugged. “I don’t like it as much as Simon or Leah, but I can drive if I have to.”

Victor furrowed his brow and looked over at Bram. “Who’s Leah?”

Bram glanced over, grinning. “Oh, what? I thought Simon must have told you about her.”

Victor shook his head. “No.”

“Well, she was one of Simon’s best friends for basically his entire life. She went to University of Georgia with her girlfriend, and she and Simon kinda drifted apart?” Bram furrowed his brows in thought. “Yeah, I don’t remember the last time they talked, though I think Leah is coming down soon. I’m not sure. She might change her mind and go with Abby to D.C.”

Victor nodded as he processed the information. “So, Abby likes to drive?”

Bram nodded. “It wasn’t her favorite thing in the world, but she liked the responsibility, I think.”

Victor thought about that. “I don’t mind driving. I drove Benji and I on our roadtrip. That was nice.” He was quiet for a second, then added, “Well, before I kissed him when we were both in separate relationships and he thought I was straight.”

Bram laughed and slowed for a red light. “Yeah, I can imagine that was a little tense afterward.”

Victor groaned at the memory. “It was awful! And, I was  _ this close _ to sharing a bed with him the whole night.” He held up his thumb and index finger with a small space between them. “ _ This close! _ ” He dropped his hand in frustration at himself. “And I had to go ruin it for… God knows why.”

Bram was cracking up next to him. “I just don’t understand why you thought it was a good idea!”

“ _ I wasn’t thinking anything! _ The last thing I had a coherent thought about was getting in bed, then I was kissing him, then he was pulling away. I was mortified!”

And still, the asshole he was, Bram was dying in the driver’s seat. “You are a mess, Vic, I swear to God.”

“I know!” He groaned. 

The light turned green, and Bram sobered up as quick as he could, knuckling at the corners of his eyes. “Alright, so I can take you to WaHo, or I can take you somewhere that’s not WaHo. Your choice. I kinda wanna take you to WaHo.”

Victor pursed his lips and shrugged. “Waffle House it is.”

“No, Victor, WaHo.”

“Yeah, I thought that was Waffle House.”

“It’s WaHo.

“Technically, it’s Waffle House.”

“WaHo.”

“Well, technically it’s Wafle House, did you see the sign is missing an F?”

Bram burst into laughter again. “Yeah, I saw. They’ve been falling apart since we stopped having, like, four meals a week there.”

Victor laughed, too, relieved there was no pain that came with it. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone goes anymore.”

Bram shrugged. “I don’t see why. It’s good food.”

Victor shook his head, chuckling. “The menu has, like, seven things on it.”

“ _ And they’re a good seven things, Victor! _ ”

“Okay, I get it!” Victor shouted back, unable to stop his huge guffaws. “Waffle House is good!”

They were pulling into the Waffle House parking lot now, which Victor was glad for; Bram laughing so much behind the wheel was a recipe for disaster.

They made their way inside the restaurant, their laughter finally subsiding as they stretched out in the same booth they’d occupied just the other day.

Bram kept the conversation light, asking about school, and asking about Benji in excess; how’d they meet, how did Victor feel about getting back together, what convinced him to do it, had they been on a proper date yet? Victor answered each question with ease-- this was, of course, one of his favorite topics.

The waiter delivered their dinners, two pork chops and Bram’s extra waffle for them to split, and he waited until the staff was just out of earshot before saying, “Victor, can I ask you something?”

Victor nodded as he took a bite of his food. “What;s up?”

Bram bit his lip and observed him before saying, “Why did you stop messaging us when all the bad happened?”

Victor pursed his lips and put down his silverware. Maybe this was what Bram had wanted to know all along. Maybe they all wanted to know. Victor probably owed them an answer. “I guess, everything I loved and everything I trusted had turned on me. It hurt so bad, you know? And I just kept thinking, you guys are so far away in New York, and nothing I thought was right turned out to be right. What if that happened with you guys, too? I forgot that you guys were really my friends. I forgot you really cared about me.”

Bram looked at him, but the expression on his face was not one of pity or disappointment, but of understanding. “I get it. It had to be so hard watching your life crumble. It put you in a dark place.” Bram sighed. “When Simon was outed, everyone turned on him. Leah, Abby, Nick, even me. I wasn’t out, not even to Simon. We’d been messaging using pen names. Simon was Jacque: I was Blue. And when I saw our emails on Creeksecrets, I saw our worlds crashing down, mine  _ and  _ Simon’s. Simon had messaged me after and he said, ‘I don’t care if you’re not attracted to me, I don’t care if you never want to tell me who you are, I need you in my life. Please, Blue, don’t go.’ But I was so scared. I couldn’t stay. And I blocked him, too. Leah was mad at him for God knows what reason, and Abby and Nick were pissed that he’d tried to keep them apart because of the whole blackmailing thing.”

“What blackmailing thing?” Victor asked, sitting up.

Bram looked up, shocked. “You didn’t know? This kid Martin found Simon’s emails on a computer and threatened he’d post them on the fucking Tumblr if Simon didn’t help him get Abby.” Bram shook his head, his nose scrunching in anger and disgust. “I still get so pissed when I think about it.”

Victor leaned back in his chair, lost. “I had no clue. I thought he just… I don’t know. Someone outed him on the Tumblr.”

Bram shook his head. “He’d never do it like that. Especially dragging me into it. He’d have left ‘Blue’ out of the whole situation if he had a choice. But everyone knew Blue existed and everyone knew Simon was Jacque. And we all left him alone.” Bram shook his head again, this time more to himself. “I get nauseated thinking about it. I wish I could go back in time and change it. But I can’t. So instead I’ll just spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to him.”

Victor worried at his lip, then picked up his fork and knife and cut into the meat getting cold in front of him. “I didn’t know any of that.”

Bram nodded to himself, his tongue sticking out between his pursed lips before he said, “Do you understand why I’m telling you all this, Victor?”

Victor nodded, then shook his head. “Not really.”

Bram chuckled. “I am telling you this because Simon knew what it was like to come out and be alone. And I know what it’s like, being scared of the people around you. I blocked the guy I had a crush on since before the whole Jacque ‘n’ Blue thing because I was scared. I wasn’t sure if he could be there for me anymore. I wasn’t sure if he was ever supposed to be.”

“But then you went on the Ferris wheel. You showed up for him.”

Bram looked remorseful. “I almost didn’t.”

Victor felt his stomach clench. “What?”

“I knew exactly where he was, and I knew exactly what he was doing, and I knew exactly what it would look like if I didn’t come. I knew how embarrassing that would be for him. And I was standing at the back of the crowd, just watching him wait. Watching as he slowly lost hope. And I remembered something he’d said. You may be the only person who’s gotten more than 140 characters from me.’ It may seem so weird, but it stuck out to me. And I thought of everything he’d said, everything he’d been through, everything he’d done to protect me, the pain he must have been in, and I made my way through the crowd as well as I could, and I sat down with him. At first, he didn’t believe it was me. I asked to sit, and all he said was, ‘I’m waiting for someone.’ Like it couldn’t ever be me. And I remember sitting next to him and I kept thinking. He must have been disappointed. He must have been upset. Then, he kissed me.” Bram shrugged and stuffed a piece of pork in his mouth. “I loved him, then, and I’d loved him for a while. I think I’ll always love him. I think I’ll marry him one day.”

Victor bit his lip. “You do?” 

Bram nodded and cut into the waffle in front of them. “I really do. And, Victor, you need to understand. People aren’t the way they seem. Some people could be there for you their whole lives and then when you need them most, they’re gone. Some people seem like they might reject you and your truth, but they won’t. I’m still mad at Simon’s friends for the way they treated him, even if he isn’t.” Bram leaned close, like his next words were sacred. “When the world comes crashing down around you, Victor, you can build it up again. Sometimes it takes an army, but sometimes it just takes you.” He pointed at Victor’s uneaten pork chop with his knife. “Now, eat. You’re a growing boy, you need your food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all, so now that we know what happens with Venji (yay) would you guys like to see some,,,,, sexy times? 👀👀👀👀 
> 
> Let me know in the comments what your thoughts would be. This would be underage, and nothing too serious or far, and it wouldn't be for a little bit, and depending on what y'all say it still may be subject to change, I just would like your guys' opinions. Let me know!! :)))


	12. Retrace Our Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all pls go to the last chapter and comment I'm trying to get some //input// from you guys on what ya wanna see pls help a gal out

That night, Victor was heading up at 6, and it was almost like he was waiting. It was almost like Adrian was waiting. 

The door burst open, and something flew at Victor’s body, and he thought it might have been his father. Maybe Armando saw him and decided to finish the job. 

But, no. The octopus was back. 

Adrian clung to his waist, tears springing into his eyes, begging Victor to come home. 

“Please, Victor!” He shouted. “I want you to come home, I miss you so much! Please! I’ll listen to Baby Shark a thousand times every day for the rest of my life if you come home!” 

Victor squeezed his shoulders and tried his best not to cry. “Come on, buddy. It’s okay.” He rubbed his back as he spoke. “Adrian, it’s okay.”

He knelt down to his level, blinking away the tears that kept welling in his eyes. He’d cried enough for a lifetime, he thought, and yet more still came. 

“Adrian,” he wiped the tears from his little brother's chubby cheeks. He still hadn’t grown past his baby fat yet. Victor wondered if he’d ever be lucky enough to see him without it. “Adrian Salazar, you listen to me, kid. I will always be your brother just like you will always be mine. Nothing will change that, and nothing will change how much I love you, and nothing will change how much you love me.” Victor’s words were shaky, but he needed Adrian to understand this. “You don’t need to listen to Baby Shark a thousand times. You never need to listen to it again if you don’t want to. It won’t matter, buddy. I’m still your brother. I’ll still be right here with you for the rest of your life. As long as you remember me.”

“Like Coco?” He asked, more tears welling in his eyes. 

“No, Adrian, not like Coco. I’m still here. I’ll be right here. Always. Maybe we can see each other sometimes. But I have to go now, okay?”

“Victor, no,” Adrian whispered. 

“Adrian!” Pilar called from inside the apartment. “Adrian, where—“

She came to the doorway, her voice cutting out once she saw Victor. He wasn’t sure what she’d do. She hadn’t exactly been very kind to Victor during this whole ordeal.

“Pilar.” Victor moved to stand, but Adrian gripped his shirt to keep him there. 

“Dad doesn’t want you here.” She told him, stifling her own tears. Victor heard it in her voice.

“I know.” He told her. He went to try to wrench Adrian’s fingers off his shirt. “Is he here?”

She shook her head. “No.” For a moment, she didn’t look at him. Then, she burst into tears and stumbled over to her brothers, collapsing to her knees next to Victor. “I’m so sorry,” she cried, “I was so scared of him. I was so scared he’d hurt me, too. I just wanted you back home.” She wrapped her arms around his middle, crying into the fabric of his t-shirt. “I just want you back home. I’m so sorry.”

Pilar was crying, and now Adrian was crying too, and, fuck, there was no way Victor could resist his own urges to burst into tears with his little brother and little sister sobbing in his arms like this. He wrapped them up tight in his arms, and they cried together in the hallway in front of their open door. 

“Mom misses you so much,” Pilar said through her tears. “She wants you back home, but Dad is around all the time, and we don’t want you to get hurt again.” She pulled away and wiped her cheeks. “God, nothing is right without you. I hate it so much. I hate him so much for doing this to you.”

Victor checked his watch and, upon noticing the late time, urged them up and back inside. “They could come home soon. I don’t want him to hurt you guys, too.”

Pilar rushed a screaming Adrian inside the apartment, then ran out and gave him one last hug and kiss, a quick, “Te amo,” before speeding back inside and closing the door. Victor could still hear Adrian screaming inside and Pilar trying to calm him. His chest ached; listening to his brother’s wailing was agony.

In one last breath, Victor whispered, “Yo también te amo.”

Felix rushed down the stairs to find Victor standing in the hallway. His eyes widened and his face drained. “What happened?”

All Victor could find it in himself to say was, “He really misses me.”

Felix sighed, no longer concerned, but empathetic. “Come on. Let’s go get some rest.”

Victor nodded and followed Felix upstairs. He was exhausted and decided, instead of showering, it was time to go right to sleep.

***

Simon drove Victor, Benji, and Felix to the Spier family household for dinner. It was Saturday, technically the first day of spring break for those at Creekwood High, and Lake and Victor had managed to convince Felix to go to the Meriwether beach house for a few days. Felix only agreed after they decided Victor would stay with the Spiers-- and he got to meet them for himself. 

“I’m not letting just anyone house and take care of my best friend for a few days while I’m gone,” Felix had said in defense. 

Sometimes, Victor wasn’t sure how he ever deserved Felix Weston. 

Nevertheless, the Spiers readily agreed to a dinner with Victor’s friend. Victor was beginning to understand exactly how open their home truly was to outsiders.

They pulled into the driveway and were greeted by Bram opening the door, barely able to contain his excitement. He bounded over to Simon, kissing him, barely able to contain his smile. 

“Miss me?” Simon asked as he ran a hand through Bram’s hair. All he got in return was Bram’s loving grin and smile lines.

Victor’s heart swelled at the sights, and he remembered what Bram had said the other day. _I think I’ll marry him one day._ One look at the two of them together, and there wasn’t a single doubt in Victor’s mind that they would. He just hoped he’d be invited to the wedding. 

Felix looked at the house in front of them, lips turned down into a frown. Victor left the couple alone and made his way to his best friend. “What’s wrong?”

Felix shrugged. “I’ve lived in that apartment my whole life. I’ve never slept over at anyone else’s houses, I’ve only ever been inside Lake’s house, actually. I’ve grown used to the clutter.” He shrugged and looked around at the lawn and the driveway. “I guess I never thought about a house. A real house to sleep in every night.”

Victor rested his hand on Felix’s shoulder. “I get it, Felix. I’ve never lived in a house, either.”

Felix turned to Victor, sad. “Do you think it’d be better for you to stay here?”

Victor thought about that. A mother, a father, a sister, a house with a bed and a dining room table and so much distance between himself and his little siblings. Or a dingy old couch and his best friend, his little brother and sister right downstairs. It was a no-brainer, really.

“No, Felix.” He told him honestly. “I like staying with you. As much as I love the Spiers, you are my best friend. You’re my brother.” He gave Felix a reassuring smile. “And besides,” he added, “I could never be that far away from Adrian and Pilar.”

Felix watched Victor’s face very carefully. “You just called me your brother.”

Victor furrowed his brows. “Well, yeah. You’re really important to me, Felix.”

Felix’s puppy eyes were a bit too strong for Victor right now. His eyes were welling with tears and Victor didn’t know what to do. 

“No one’s ever said anything like that to me,” Felix said softly. “No one’s ever wanted to be my friend.”

Victor sighed. “You’re my best friend, Felix.” He pulled him into a hug. “You’re my brother.”

Felix held him tight. “You’re mine, too.”

Simon called for them to come in, and Victor, with his arm still wrapped around Felix’s shoulders, followed them inside to the kitchen where dinner was almost ready. Benji wrapped his arms around Victor and pressed himself to his back as they all stood around the space, saying hi and introducing Felix in. 

Justin softly elbowed Ivy and nodded in their direction. Ivy smiled at them and whispered, “Yes, Victor, get it!”

Victor chuckled at that and pressed his back to Benji again. Benji hummed softly and pressed a kiss to Victor’s shoulder. Victor could feel the gentle vibrations in his back. He closed his eyes, shoulders relaxing, and he slowly became aware of everywhere Benji was touching him, his arms around his middle, the whole front of his body to Victor’s back, his foot wedged carefully between Victor’s. It somehow wasn’t enough. He wondered if he’d ever get over Benji holding him.

As everyone set the table for dinner, Emily pulled Victor aside and checked how he was doing. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she said earnestly. “You’re my kid, Victor. I need to know you’re okay.”

It baffled Victor beyond belief how easily the Spier family accepted him and Benji as their children. The pink in his veins sung with joy at her admission. “I’m okay, Emily. Honestly.”

She nodded and pulled him tight to her chest. “Okay. I love you, Victor.”

“Te amo, Emily.”

She kissed his cheek, then pulled away. Her hands came to the sides of his neck and held there for just a moment, brushing his jaw, before she gave him a smile and headed back into the dining room and sat at her spot next to Jack. Victor remembered Simon mentioning the other day that they’d gotten a new dining table so that they could hold more people Simon brought through, and they’d done some remodeling so that the dining and living rooms were smaller and put in an extra guest bedroom. Victor couldn’t help but hope they’d be foster parents once Nora went off to college; so many more kids needed parents like Jack and Emily, and the two seemed happy to be those parents for whoever asked. Hell, they _offered_ to be Victor’s family. They were perfect for the job. Maybe they’d open a new foster home for homeless LGBT+ kids who needed it once they retired; it seemed like something they would do. Or maybe they’d just have rooms open, and whoever needed could come in and stay the night. Maybe they’d start something long overdue in Shady Creek-- maybe they’d make a home for the kids who never felt they had one. Maybe they’d make it the Spier legacy. They already touched seven lost kids within one year and brought them home. They could do it with so many more. 

Victor shoved down his thoughts and went to the table. He sat between Benji and Felix and, without thinking, took Benji’s hand under the table and gave it three squeezes. Benji squeezed back. 

Maybe seven was enough for the Spiers. Maybe it was too many. After all, they’d only had two kids. Maybe that was on purpose. 

No one said grace; no one even suggested it. Victor didn’t feel hungry without it. He didn’t even believe in God or Christianity, it had just become so normal for him to pray before eating, he never even considered what it’d be like eating dinner without it. He always said a quick prayer or “thank you, God, for this meal” before eating, but tonight, everyone got started. It felt so very weird.

Emily noticed his hesitation and asked, “Are you not hungry, Victor?”

Victor snapped back to the present, unsure of where to go from here. “Uh, no, I am. I just…” He glanced around at the table. Everyone had stopped, and they were all looking at him.

Under the table, Benji squeezed his hand three times. Victor squeezed back, one, two, three.

“I’m just used to saying grace,” He explained quietly.

Justin hummed his dislike. “It’s a hard practice to get out of. Feels weird.”

Victor sighed, relieved someone understood where he was coming from. “Yeah. It’s like I’m not supposed to be hungry without it. It’s just strange.”

Emily sat up, glancing around the table. “Well, we can say grace, if you’d like.”

Victor felt his face warm as everyone seemed to rearrange themselves. Justin’s face drained. “No!” He insisted. “It’s okay, we don’t have to. I don’t even really believe in God, it’s just… reflex,” He ended lamely. He realized there was no way now they were giving this up. Emily was going to make Victor feel welcome in her home, and once she got this idea in her head, there was no way she was letting it go. 

“Would you like to do the honors, Victor?” She asked him. 

Victor looked at Justin. He looked stricken as he stared at the table. No, worse than that, he looked terrified. “Justin,” Victor said softly, “are you okay with this?”

Justin eyed everyone at the table before turning back to Victor. “I made my peace with my past. I just haven’t said a prayer in a very long time. I used to believe in God.” Justin shook his head, smiling sadly at the memory. “I used to be religious, too. I used to find so much peace in praying.” He bit his lip, blinking the clouds from his eyes. “I think I lost that a little bit.” He straightened his back and held his hands to Ivy and Bram where they sat next to him. “I’m not hiding anymore. I’m ready for you, Victor. Do it.”

Everyone at the table joined hands. Victor should keep it short. He should keep it simple. He should convince Emily to let it slide tonight. 

Benji rested their intertwined fingers on the table and squeezed his hand, one, two, three. Victor squeezed back. He took Felix’s hand in his, and closed his eyes. 

“Heavenly Father,” he said, “bless this meal which you have given us, which was prepared by Emily and Jack. Bless our family as we join together and separate wherever we need to go. Please bless my family back home, and offer them guidance towards your love. Bless Felix and his mother and their home, and bless him and Lake and Mia on their trip over the next couple days. Don’t let them lose Your spirit, Father, and stay with them and keep them safe. Please bless Benji and his parents, and offer them Your guidance so they can love each other everyday. Offer his father guidance so he can understand his son. Offer Benji Your love as he takes on his own struggles every day, while also helping me with my own. Bless Nora and every meal she cooks, and thank You for bringing the two of us together. She rocks.”

A chuckle sounded from down the table before Victor continued, “Please bless Emily and Jack especially for opening their home to seven misfits when they never had to, never chose to, but accepted us and loved us just the same as their own children. Bless Emily everyday as she takes on all nine of us idiots and seems as happy as she possibly could be as she does it. Bless Jack as he loves us and works so very hard to understand us. Bless them both as a couple, and bless their love. Bless Simon and Bram and their own love as they learn and grow together. Bless Ivy and Kim as they go about their own journeys. Bless Justin, Father. He just wants to be happy. He has been deprived of Your love too long, and he was not taught Your ways, but instead a twisted version of them. Please bless him and offer him guidance to find the way he wants to live, and continue to love him when he finds it, just as I know You already do. Bless each of us on our paths, please give us the strength to continue getting good grades and please continue offering us food for our table. It used to seat four; now it seats eleven. 

“Thank You for this meal, and thank You for bringing us together. Thank You for this family. 

“In Jesus’ name, amen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has nothing to do w this fic but when I tell y'all that I am excited for boyfriends working at Brasstown together I mean I! Am! Excited! For! Boyfriends! Working! At! Brasstown! Together!!!!!
> 
> I need more mutuals to scream about this show w someone help


	13. Blood on White T-Shirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all, really :((

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS/DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND HOMOPHOBIC SLURS**  
> SKIP TO NOTES IF YOU DONT WANT TO READ THE CHAPTER TO AVOID

When Felix gave him a hug before leaving, Victor held on tight. He hadn’t been without his friend since that first weekend of hell. It felt almost wrong to come out of it without him. Although, Victor figured, he guessed he wasn’t completely out of it yet.

Emily showed him and Benji to their room and told them of her open-door policy (door opened during the day if they both were in there, past 9 p.m. it could be closed, but it had to be unlocked) then left them to get settled while she made lunch. Victor still wasn’t sure why Benji so readily offered himself to accompany Victor to staying at the Spiers, but he was beyond grateful for it. They may have been new together, but they felt as close as they ever could be. Trauma, he supposed, could do that to some people. 

Victor sat on the bed and watched Benji bustle around the room. He checked to make sure there were towels in their bathroom (there were) and the TV was plugged in (it was) and a thousand other little things before finally, _finally_ looking at Victor.

“You, uh, you ready for a few days in a bed?” He asked, his voice cracking.

Victor stared up at him, lost. “What is going on, Benji?”

Benji sighed. “I don’t know.” He dropped onto the bed beside Victor, his eyes closed tight. “I just… Tonight. We’ll be alone.”

A nervous zing went through Victor’s stomach at the thought. “Yeah.” He said softly. “We will.”

“We don’t have to do anything. I could sleep on the floor if you really wanted.” Benji rushed.

“I don’t.” 

“Okay. Good.” Benji pressed his fists to his forehead, then whispered, “I really want you, Victor.”

Victor stared into Benji’s face. That zing earlier was now a storm inside him, a magnetic pull towards Benji. “Me too. I mean-- you, I want-- um--”

Benji laughed, and the nerves in the room seemed to dispel with the sound. Had Victor ever mentioned how much he loved the sound of Benji’s laugh? Because it sounded like the best thing he’d ever damn well heard. 

“I get it, Victor.” Benji said. “I’m glad we’re both on the same page here.”

Victor breathed a sigh of relief. “Me too.” He kissed him quick, and the storm was back. Simon had mentioned the tidal wave; Maybe Victor’s was a storm. 

Benji pressed a small kiss to the tip of his nose before leaning his forehead against Victor’s. “I love you.” 

It was the first time either of them had said it since that ill-fated night in Brasstown. Victor didn’t have to think about his response. He smiled and picked up Benji’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back. “I love you, too.”

They were smiling together, their foreheads touching, their intertwined fingers between their chests. Victor felt elated with the admission. Did Benji feel as good as he did? Did they hold their love in their chests with the same gold? Did Benji feel gold, or was it something else? Was it green, or brown, or silver? Did it match Victor’s well?

He almost thought of asking, before he realized that question would sound literally insane. 

_What color is your love?_

Victor could feel them, though, purple and green and pink and gold, luscious and full, swelling in his body, putting him back together, piece by piece. They continuously settled in his gut, his left cheek, his pelvis. He realized, suddenly, he didn’t think about it as often anymore. It had only been a few weeks since that night, but since then, Victor started to heal. He started opening himself up to the world around him again. He accepted colors again. 

Giddiness was erupting in his bones and he could barely contain himself. He loved Benji, and Benji loved him, and he loved his new family, and his family loved him. Was there ever a time that Victor thought he might not ever love again?

Happiness had overtaken him and Victor just could not sit still anymore. “I think I’m gonna go take a walk,” He said. “Get some energy out.”

Benji nodded and kissed him again. “Okay. Have fun. Be safe.”

The poem that girl read at open mic night. ‘I love you’ in a thousand words, a thousand sayings. ‘Be safe’ and ‘Be home soon.’ An ‘I love you’ worth all the blue in the skies and all the gold in the ground. 

“I promise I’ll be safe,” Victor told him, another phrase, another slip of truth, but still the same meaning. 

He put on his sneakers and said a quick goodbye to Emily before he headed out into the sunny afternoon. He pulled a deep breath of fresh air into his lungs and got walking.

It didn’t take long to get so completely lost in his head. Had Victor ever been so happy? Had he ever felt so free?

He never went a second without missing his family, Isabel and Pilar and Adrian and Armando. However, with this, he also had never felt less alone. There was always a part of him that felt isolated from the world around him. But that part was gone. He was happy. There was no denying this now.

So, why did he end up in front of his old building? 

There was, of course, an easy explanation for this: habit. He still stayed there with Felix. He’d stayed there with his family for months. Even with this reassurance, he still had to ask himself; did Victor feel like he was still missing a piece?

As Victor stood there contemplating the deeper meanings of his own life, a car pulled up a few feet away from him. And he was staring at the apartment building, and it was midday, and he didn’t think much of it. 

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve. But this Victor, this Victor that was blinded by his happiness and contentment, didn’t have the benefit of hindsight. Victor didn’t pay the car any mind. He stared at the apartment building and thought of how much it looked like a home from the outside.

“Hey, el maricón,” a familiar voice called, “what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

Victor’s fight or flight kicked in as he stared at his father, his cheekbone and stomach and crotch aching with the ghosts of their past. Maybe Armando would let him leave. Maybe this time he would get lucky. 

But when was Victor Salazar ever lucky?

Armando approached him, his strong hands balled up into fists, his heavy work boots stomping on the concrete. “I asked you a question, homo. What the hell are you doing here?”

Victor had only ever heard his dad’s voice like this once before, and he had to remind himself that he was not wearing his Spring Fling tux. He was not a scared little kid anymore about to make the biggest mistake of his life. He was stronger now; he was better than Armando.

“Don’t call me that.” He’d meant for his voice to come out hard, intimidating, just like his father’s, but instead it was weak, questioning. Still, the defiance was a start.

However, this only seemed to piss him off even more. “What did you just say to me, you bitch?”

Victor steeled himself. He was better than Armando. His dad couldn’t boss him around anymore. He’d done some growing up since he’d been kicked out all those days ago. “I told you not to call me that.” And this time, his voice was strong, full of resolution. “I stay here. This is my home, and you can’t take that away from me.”

Armando’s nostrils flared and at the speed of lightning, pulled his fist back and punched Victor point blank in the face. 

Victor staggered back, his hands flying up to his nose. His eyes welled with tears and his entire face ached with the sting and pain, and when he pulled his hands away, they were very, very bloody. 

He was wearing white, goddamnit.

Armando stalked forward and grabbed Victor by the hair, pulling his head sideways so he could speak directly into his ear. His scalp hurt and he was held at an angle that made the blood flow into his mouth; he could taste copper.

“You listen to me, and you listen good, because I’m not going to say this again,” Armando said, voice low and menacing. “I know you saw Pilar and Adrian, and I was willing to let that slide. I was willing to let them go with a warning. However, if I ever find out you talked to my children again, I will destroy you. I will not hesitate to kill you and your disease, you fucking fairy.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You’re disgusting, and if I see you around here again, I will murder you right there, you understand me?”

Victor’s mouth was full of blood now, and he was almost choking on it. In an act of sheer confidence and no thought process at all, Victor spat the mouthful of blood at him and shouted, “Fuck you, they’re my family!”

Armando didn’t waste time. He punched him in the stomach again, just as he had before, then as Victor fell to the ground, brought up his knee between his legs and kneed him in the crotch. Victor cried out, and he was in so much pain he didn’t know what to favor most. He collapsed to the concrete, coughing blood onto the ground beside him. 

Then, he did something he never thought possible: Victor picked himself up off the ground and faced Armando Salazar.

Armando laughed, though the sound was nothing like the one Victor had grown up with. This one was cruel and ugly. “You faggots just don’t know when to die, do you?”

Victor shrugged and spat more blood at the ground. “We have practice at defeating bigots like you.”

Armando shook his head and lunged forward, making contact with Victor in his middle, knocking him directly on the ground, forcing the air from his lungs. Victor could barely get a breath in before Armando was straddling him, punching his face over and over again with one hand and squeezing his throat with the other, screaming in his face for him to die, and, well, maybe Victor should.

Maybe he would.

Armando landed a punch on Victor’s throat, and suddenly Victor couldn’t breathe anymore, and the world was slowly blacking out, and it was getting harder to hear anything that was going on, and maybe this was what dying was like. Maybe when Benji sang that song for him in the beginning, he was right. 

_I will follow you into the dark…_

Did Benji mean it when he said he loved him? Would he give a eulogy at his funeral? Would Simon?

Suddenly, Victor wasn’t thinking at all.

***

The next thing he saw was Armando walking away. 

Armando Salazar got in his truck and drove away.

He was gone. So why was Victor hurting so much?

The sun was so bright, and the world was so dark.

And it was impossible for Victor to breathe.

***

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he had to get there soon. 

No one could see him. They’d ask questions. 

_What happened? Who did this to you? Are you alright?_

How was Victor supposed to answer that? It felt like his lips were sewn shut.

In his back pocket was his free pass to the showers at the rec center. Victor aimed all of his energy into putting one foot in front of the other in the direction of the rec. All he had to do was make it to the rec. He just had to go a little longer. 

Victor stopped thinking.

***

He sat on a bench in the locker room, refusing to look at himself. His face was probably swollen. He wondered if the Spiers would be able to recognize him. He wondered if Benji would.

Speaking of Benji…

Victor’s phone buzzed with a message from him. 

**hey V dinner is almost ready. pls come home soon ily ;*****

The thought of eating made Victor’s stomach roil. His whole body ached and the last thing he wanted to do was eat. He just wanted to sleep. He should’ve just gone to sleep on that sidewalk. He missed when he was laying down. 

It didn’t matter. He’d get to rest soon. 

Did Victor shower already? He couldn’t remember. His skin looked clean enough but he felt so dirty it seemed impossible he’d ever been clean. 

The locker room door opened, and Victor cowered on the bench, ignoring the pain as he curled in on himself. He was pathetic. He should have died on the sidewalk by his father’s hand. 

“Hey, showers are closing soon-- Victor?” 

Victor looked up, curiosity overtaking him. It was _Jeff._ JEFF! Jeff.

This, to Victor, was hilarious, and he laughed for two seconds until his ribcage screamed in defiance, and he remembered why he shouldn’t be laughing.

Jeff gingerly sat next to Victor, careful to keep from spooking him. “Hey, Victor,” he said softly, “you remember me? I helped you get your pass, right?”

Victor nodded, his eyes closed. Whatever happened now, he’d let happen. Jeff could kill him if he wanted to. Victor wouldn’t complain. “I remember you.”

“Right.” Jeff shifted a little, and Victor flinched. He still didn’t open his eyes. “You wanna tell me what happened, Victor?”

Victor shrugged, a wry smile on his face. He’d save his explanations for his grave. “Not really.”

Jeff didn’t push. “Alright. Can I help you clean up?”

Victor, exhausted, nodded his head yes.

“Good. You alright with me giving you some stitches? Some of those look too big for band-aids. I’m certified, I was a doctor in the military.”

Victor nodded again and took off his shirt, dropping onto the nearest bench. 

And so, Jeff got to work. It took a while--apparently Victor’s nose had started bleeding again and he didn’t notice--and while he worked, Jeff asked him some questions. When he realized Victor wasn’t exactly privy to answering, he told Victor a funny story about two kids his age trying to buy a tres leches cake off him in the middle of the Mexican bakery down the street for their friends’ birthday; when he denied, the kids stole it from him. Well, Victor suspected it was supposed to be funny; he wasn’t sure anything could ever be humorous to him again. 

How could a human being attack another person? How could a human being get so mad they threaten another human being with their life?

By the time Jeff finished cleaning and icing his face, Victor ached for his mother. He hadn’t seen her since the night of the Spring Fling. Maybe she’d accepted him by now. Or maybe she decided she wanted his filth away from her kids, too. 

“That’s about the best you’ll get,” He said and put away his first aid kit. “Don’t forget, ice pack on for ten minutes, off for thirty, okay?”

Victor nodded, and Jeff took him to the door. “I’d really feel more comfortable driving you home.”

Victor shook his head. “It’s okay. I like the walk. It’s pretty short.”

This wasn’t true; Victor was pretty sure the Spier house was around a thirty minute walk from here, but he couldn’t seem to care. Maybe his dad would find him again. Maybe he’d finish the job.

He went outside and felt his phone vibrate; it was a call from Benji. Victor checked the time; it was almost eight at night. No wonder they were worried. Maybe they thought Victor died. 

Laughter bubbled in his throat, and it ached from Armando punching him, and everything hurt, and Victor started walking home.

***

“Where do you think he is?”

“I don’t know, Emily, he said he was going for a walk.”

“Well, he couldn’t have gone far.”

“He’s been gone for eight hours, Jack, he could’ve gone to Alabama.”

“Now, that’s just unreasonable--”

“Guys, relax, he’ll be fine--”

“Fine? Simon, fine?”

“Mom, he can take care of himself.”

“Yeah. Maybe he went to go get some things from Felix’s apartment.”

“That would take maybe two hours, Bram, not eight!”

“Well--”

The room went quiet once Victor closed the door. He’d worried them so much. He wondered how long they’d been having this tight conversation, shooting back and forth, going much too fast for Victor’s exhausted brain to keep up with. All he got was that they were worried, and it’d been eight hours, and something about Alabama, maybe. God, Victor wouldn’t survive a day in Alabama, not with his brown gay ass.

Simon was the first one to come into the foyer. He seemed certain nothing would be wrong; his face paled once he saw him. “God, what happened to you?”

Emily and Benji ran in, and Benji almost crashed into a wall. They all looked on in horror as Victor stood behind the closed front door, body aching from a long day of fighting with air.

There was a mirror in the hallway, two steps forward from where Victor stood. He closed that gap, curious to see what they saw. What they saw was not a pretty sight.

The left side of his face was almost entirely black and blue, and his whole face and neck were covered in butterfly bandages. His left eye was swelling shut, and his right cheek was covered in one giant bruise. He looked like he’d been used as a person’s punching bag. He supposed he had been. 

In lieu of a full explanation, all he said was, “Had a run in with my dad.”

He turned back to the three in the hallway. Emily was crying, Simon was standing there, dumbfounded, and Benji was shaking with rage.

“I’ll kill him,” He said. His voice was quiet. It reminded Victor of the way his father had spoken when he grabbed his hair. 

Victor sighed and felt even more exhaustion sit heavy in his body. “Can you kill him tomorrow?” He asked Benji. “I think I’ve had enough violence for one day.”

Emily ventured forward and very carefully took Victor to the kitchen and asked him to remove his shirt. He did as she asked, moving despite the agony he was put in while doing so, and let her treat his wounds on his torso. He’d apparently scraped his back up while falling, and he had a lot of cuts and forming bruises all over his front. He ended up telling Emily of his friend at the rec once she asked who did the butterfly bandages, then the other bandages, then the stitches, and by then, he couldn’t open his mouth without feeling pain. 

Emily threw away his shirt. 

Nora fixed him up something small, peanut butter and jam on toast with a big glass of orange juice and Emily sat with him for the hour and a half it took him to consume it all. She never asked questions or pushed him to eat faster. She just sat at the head of the table while he sat in her usual spot next to it. She coaxed him through the crying fits when he’d burst into tears, and she asked him, “Will you just try to take one more bite?” when it seemed he couldn’t fit any more in his stomach. 

Finally, Victor went to his room. He was grateful he’d already taken off his shirt; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle all that pain again.

Benji was sat on the edge of the bed, his back ramrod straight. It took all of Victor’s energy not to burst into tears at the sight of him. Benji seemed to sense that and he said softly, “You wanna come to bed?”

Victor nodded and eased himself onto his right side. Benji sidled up behind him, curving his body again Victor’s resting his hand over his abdomen. 

“Is this okay?” He asked. Victor gave him a small nod. 

Benji held him tight as they drifted off, but Victor found it hard. He wasn’t sure Benji was actually asleep, either.

All night long, they listened to Simon, Emily, Bram, and Jack talking about what to do with Victor Salazar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry :///  
> **  
> CHAPTER DESCRIPTION: Victor and Benji move into the Spier household for spring break and the first day Victor goes to take a walk and walks past his apartment building. Armando is there and beats him. Victor goes unconscious for a sec and Armando leaves. Victor goes to the rec center where our good pal Jeff cleans him up and he goes to the Spier household where Emily cleans him up and he goes to sleep with Benji


	14. Limbs Made of Lead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is short that's why you're getting these so soon the next one took me like 2 secs to write lol

He’d never felt so terrible in his life. 

Victor woke up on his side, everything hurting from the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes. He felt it everywhere. He thought maybe even the bedsheets were weeping in pain. 

Benji was already up and ready for the day. He was dressed in a worn pair of jeans Victor knew he hated and a plain black t-shirt. His leather jacket was lain forgotten over the back of an armchair in the corner. 

He hadn’t noticed Victor was awake yet, and Victor got to just watch as he paced the room, his socked feet muted on the hardwood floor. He seemed upset about something. Victor snapped his eyes closed just as Benji looked at him. Victor’s heart raced, and everything in him hurt. Benji either sensed his pain or sensed he was away, because he got back in bed and pressed himself to Victor’s body, peppering kisses on his shoulders and hair and back of his neck. It was so calming, so gentle, so much a contrast to the deep pain in him, that it put him right back to sleep.

***

Victor woke up again what seemed like hours later, his body cold and in its regular agony. The light in the room had shifted. Every trace of Benji was gone. Except for the leather jacket. The jacket was still on the chair; his shoes were gone.

Victor picked himself up and lurched to the side into the wall, crying out as he did. Everything was terrible. He was rotting from the inside out.

The bedroom door opened and Simon and Bram rushed in, taking Victor into their arms as gently as they could so as to keep from adding to his pain, and they walked him toward the door. Victor whimpered; he needed the jacket. He needed Benji. _He needed the jacket_. He couldn’t speak, but, with great effort, he held his hand out toward the chair. He needed Benji with him in whatever way he could have him. 

Simon seemed to pick up the hint and went to the chair, grabbing the jacket and throwing a questioning look to Victor. He nodded, and Simon came back and gave him the jacket. Victor held tightly to the fabric. He needed it. 

Bram carried him down the stairs and to the couch, and Victor couldn’t find it in himself to protest the pain it put him in. He wouldn’t have the ability to walk down the steps even with the help from them both. He just held onto Benji’s jacket like it was life support. Fuck, it felt like it was. 

He set him down on the couch and gave him a blanket and the TV remote before going to find Emily in the kitchen. 

Simon sat next to Victor’s feet, seemingly lost for what to say. Finally, he landed on, “What happened yesterday?”

Victor sighed. “I was just taking a walk. I was passing my apartment building and my dad was there. He started threatening me and telling me to stay away from there and I told him no. So he ran me to the ground and hit me. I was out for a little while, I think. I’m not sure how long.”

Simon looked stricken. “What do you mean by ‘out?’”

“Like, I passed out.”

“You went _unconscious?_ ” 

And it was now that Emily and Bram came in. Emily’s eyes went wide. “What? For how long?”

Victor sighed and leaned back. His head hurt so bad at all the questions, and just because it fucking hurt. “I don’t know. I think a few seconds.”

Emily at the edge of the couch and held his face gently, looking in both of his eyes. “I’m gonna call a friend. He’s a doctor, he’ll know what to do.”

She stood and pulled her phone from her pocket, and Simon and Bram sat with him. He was so tired, eternity wasn’t enough. It hurt so bad to blink. 

Victor checked the time; it was almost four in the afternoon. Where was Benji all this time? 

“Hey,” he said softly, “where’s Benji?”

Simon and Bram glanced at each other. “He said that he needed to do something at home,” Bram explained. “He said he’d probably be gone for a while.”

Victor sagged and held the jacket closer to his chest. “I want him back home.”

Simon rested a hand on Victor’s shin, stroking his thumb gently over his skin. “I know. He’ll be back soon, though.”

Victor nodded in agreement. 

Emily stalked back in, slipping her phone in her back pocket. “Okay, Doctor Price is on his way.”

“Cal’s dad?” Simon asked. Bram’s face darkened once Simon spoke. Victor didn’t mention it. 

Emily nodded. “I’ve had a few favors to call in. He’s a brain surgeon.”

Victor was sick with the knowledge that Emily used her favors for him, but it hurt to talk, hurt to breathe, so he said nothing. 

Simon and Bram sat with Victor and all three stared at the dark TV screen. Simon looked uncomfortable, and Bram just looked mad. Victor didn’t know what to do. 

There was a knock after a half hour, and Emily rushed who Victor suspected was Doctor Cal’s Dad to Victor’s side. 

Dr. Price looked over Victor’s whole head, checked his vision, and confirmed there was no concussion, but he said he had to get a CT scan to make sure he wasn’t internally bleeding. He said it was on him. Victor tried to offer to pay for some of it, but Dr. Price refused. 

“Per the favor, it's all on me,” he told him. “And besides, I want to do it. You’ve been through a lot, Victor. I don’t want to see you dying because of something I could have helped.”

They scheduled a scan for later that day after normal hours had ended. He said he’d get some techs to stay after to help; he had some favors to call in, too. Victor hated that they were using all this for him, but couldn’t find it in him to care. 

Dr. Price made his way out, already pulling out his phone to make a call. Emily gave him some water and juice; Victor was now on a liquids-only diet until the scan. 

Bram put on Cars for Victor to stare at until they had to leave for the scan. Simon held him to his chest and stroked his hair while Bram sat with his feet in his lap. Victor didn’t pay attention to any of it. The only thing he took note of was how different Simon’s hands were to his hair than his father’s. 

Near the end of the movie and closer to when they had to leave for the appointment, Victor was starting to feel nervous. What if they found something? What if Victor was sick? What if something fell through and it was more money than he could afford? What then?

The front door opened, and Victor assumed it was Jack or Nora coming in, but Emily gasped and Simon’s hands paused and Bram sat up straight, and Victor knew it wasn’t them. It had to be Benji. 

Though it was hard and painful, Victor managed to turn his head to look at Benji. His jeans were bloodied, and so was his right hand, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was a bright redness around his swollen left eye which was quickly turning into a bruise. 

Victor’s stomach closed up and rejected everything he’d consumed today, and he was glad it was only liquids. He would have thrown up otherwise. 

“Benji,” Emily said, coming over to cup his face and assess the damage, “what happened to you?”

Benji closed his eyes and seemed to finally relax. “Honestly, Emily, I have no idea.”

Bram set Victor’s feet aside and got to his feet. “Benji, this is serious. What happened?”

Benji shook his head sadly. “I just wanted to talk. I had some time to kill while I was there, and I just wanted to talk.”

“Benji, you could get arrested,” Emily’s voice had such worry in it. Victor’s heart skipped a beat at the fear of losing Benji. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lose him. He pulled his knees to his chest, his body tensing at the thought.

Something like a laugh came out of Benji’s throat. “I’m sixteen, he’s what? Forty? Who’s going to arrest a kid who reacted in self defense?”

Emily shook her head and went to the kitchen, coming back with an ice pack. She handed it to him and pointed to the couch. Without another word, Benji sat down in Bram’s spot. “Honestly, Emily, I did nothing wrong. It was public property. All I wanted to do was talk.”

“But you _hit him_ , Benji!” She said. “That’s not talking.”

Benji shook his head and held up his split knuckles. “Swing and a miss.” He dropped his hand and picked up his left hand and pointed to his eye. “Swing and a hit.” He picked up the ice pack and held it to his face. “He grabbed me and hit me, and I tried to hit back, but all I got was some wood.”

Emily frowned. “Where were you?”

“By a 7-11. I saw him and I was just so angry I saw red. I wouldn’t ever hit anyone unless they hit me first and I needed to protect myself, Emily, and he hit me. He would’ve again if someone hadn’t stepped in and gotten him off me.”

Victor was crying. This was his fault. Everything was his fault. He got on his knees, ignoring his joints crying out in agony, and crawled over to Benji, silent. He lay his head on Benji’s lap. Everything hurt so bad and his head hurt and his face hurt and his body hurt and his pelvis hurt and his clothes hurt and the couch cushions hurt and Benji wasn’t supposed to be hurting. Benji was never supposed to get hurt.

Benji’s fingers tangled gently into Victor’s, so unlike his father, and yet it still made his breath stop. He was safe. This was Benji. Benji would never hurt him (Right?).

Emily inspected Benji’s face and knuckles closely before deeming him not too injured. She berated him for approaching someone knowing full well he was dangerous, and she held him tight and kissed his head before saying she was glad he was safe and went to get ready to go. 

Victor sat up and threw his legs over Benji’s lap. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Benji shrugged. “It wasn’t really a conscious decision.”

Victor sighed. “I want you to be more careful, Benji. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Benji nodded, his eyes sad. “I love you, Vic.”

Victor took Benji’s good hand in his own, squeezed three times, and said, “I love you, too.”

***

After the scan, Dr. Price made sure to get the results quickly, letting them know Victor was free of internal bleeding. He let Victor know he would get some scarring all over from the wounds, especially the ones that needed stitching. He also let Victor know whoever did his sutures was fantastic at it; Victor, exhausted, just said, “It was Jeff at the rec.” Dr. Price took note of that. He took pictures of the injuries, and sent them off.

Emily drove him home, where Nora had soup prepared. With every bite, he felt like vomiting, but Emily sat with him patiently, coaxing him through each swallow, asking him to take another spoonful, running her hand over his back to ease the process. It felt like spikes on his spine, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered. Life was pain. 

Victor trudged upstairs, his energy gone. He began to wonder if it would ever come back for good.

Benji was waiting, again, sitting at the edge of the bed. He stood once Victor came in. 

Bruises didn’t look good on Benji Campbell.

Victor was at such a loss. They were both hurting so bad. Nothing was good anymore.

Benji was good. Benji would destroy himself and anyone else for Victor. Victor would find a way to make Benji stop. 

Their love was good.

Benji came over and brushed a kiss to Victor’s nose. Victor, in turn, brought up Benji’s hand and gave it a soft kiss.

It was still there. The gold was still there.


	15. At the End of Your Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Benji at 7-11 bc I felt like it so at the outtake: ***TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE*** You don't need to read it if you don't wanna it's just some Benji POV and probably the only one you're gonna get

The distance between them was much longer than arms’ length. They were so far away.

And yet, still, Armando reached him. 

He was down on the ground now, and there was blood everywhere, splattered on his father’s and grandfather’s faces, and Benji was lying lifeless next to him, and Victor would die, Victor was already dead.

“Don't hurt me,” he pleaded, but Abuelo’s hands were on Victor’s throat, and he was dead. They couldn’t hear him.

He was _dead, dead, dead._

Flies were coming out of Benji’s mouth.

_Dead dead--_

Victor bolted up, his body screaming in agony, his lungs crying out for air, every inch of him trembling and covered in sweat. 

Benji sat up beside him, rubbing Victor’s back as he panted and whimpered, giving him kisses and running his hands through his hair, trying his best to soothe him. It didn’t work. No one was very good at the impossible. 

After a while, Benji resolved to just hold him as whimpers sounded from his throat, tears flowing freely down his face, sweat everywhere. He couldn’t stop shaking. How did he stop shaking?

Benji spoke softly into his ear, telling him he’d just had a bad dream, he was safe, he was in the Spier’s house, he was with Benji. 

“You’re safe, Victor,” Benji told him. “No one will hurt you, here, I’ll make damn sure of it.”

 _But you were dead, too,_ Victor tried to say, but all that came out were more whines. He couldn’t make words. Nothing was working. 

“You’re safe, Victor,” Benji told him, “you’re safe here.”

Victor just couldn’t stop shaking, and they sat this way for the rest of the night.

***

There were only three things that changed in all of six hours: Victor stopped shaking, Benji stopped talking, and now they were on the couch. 

Benji had explained to everyone what happened and they gave the two their space. Justin and Kim doted on him like two mother hens, and Emily kept trying to convince him to eat some soup, but no one really tried to make him move, and he was glad for it. He felt like there was nothing inside him now. He was so, so empty. Victor Salazar was like a goddamn chocolate egg on Easter. It looked like something on the outside, but it was only a shell. It was hollow. He was hollow. He was nothing. 

At some point, Nora had come in and sat with them. She talked to the two of them as if nothing was wrong. She didn’t look on in pity or concern. Neither boy said a word back, but Nora Spier sat there for nearly an hour, talking to Victor and Benji about a cake she wanted to make. After a while she put on Phineas and Ferb for the two of them, stood, gave them each a kiss on the head, and left. Victor made a mental note to thank Nora for being the actual best person.

Victor started at the television screen, at the bright colors and simple 2-D animation, at the simplicity of society in that world’s Tri-State Area, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled.

From somewhere far away, Victor could hear Nora whisper a prideful, “Yes!”

***

“I don’t know, Jack,” Emily was saying. Victor had been paying attention to Phineas and Ferb for some time now, the repetition and colors soothing for his brain. However, now his ears decided to tune into the hushed conversation in the kitchen. Benji was sleeping as he held him, and Victor picked his head up off his chest to hear better. 

“What’s not to know, Em?” Jack said. Jack was not very good at whispering. “He went through something serious, and now he’s having nightmares and just staring into space for _hours_ , what if there is something wrong and you’re ignoring it, huh?”

“ _No_ , Jack, because these things take time to develop.” She insisted, her voice raising a bit. “PTSD doesn’t just happen overnight.”

“And what if it does for him? What if he gets worse?”

“We can deal with that when the time comes. For now, you’re right, he just went through something traumatic and needs time to cope with it.”

Jack lowered his voice to say, “He’s not coping with it, Em, he’s sitting there with Benji staring at the TV. God knows what he’s thinking about.”

“He’ll be okay, Jack,” she said, almost as if she were trying to convince herself more than her husband. “He’s having a rough time and he had a bad night. We just have to give him some time to figure out how it’s best to heal.”

“I saw him smiling,” Nora piped up. “When I left. I just sorta talked for a while, then put on Phineas and Ferb and he watched it for a bit before smiling.”

Jack’s voice softened. “He smiled?”

There was a short but firm pause where Victor could imagine Nora nodding. “He’s aware. Maybe he’s not showing it or he doesn’t know what to do with it, but he’s aware.”

Jack sighed. “I still don’t know. I mean, doesn’t it get worse over time?”

“Yes, and we just have to figure out what he best responds to and we go from there.”

“What,” said Simon, “so we watch him like a hawk and overanalyze his every move? Yeah, that’ll make him feel safe.” Victor didn’t even need to see him to picture him rolling his eyes. 

“Do you have any other ideas?” Jack asked. It seemed by now they’d forgotten to whisper. Victor would have liked to stop listening, but now he heard it either way, and couldn’t find it in him to do something to stop it.

“Yeah,” Simon said, “wait until he’s responsive and talk to him like he’s a normal human being and not a zoo animal.”

“That could be too late, Simon,” Emily said. “This is a tricky situation. We just need to watch him carefully until we can figure out if action needs to be taken.”

 _If action needs to be taken._ Victor didn’t like the sound of that one bit. His stomach tied up in knots at the thought. What were ‘actions,’ anyway? Doctor? Medication? Mental hospital? Psychiatric ward? Did Victor have to spend the rest of his life living with the crazies at Shady Creek Memorial?

The conversation moved to Benji and what to do about him and Armando, but Victor couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. What would they do with him? Were they even allowed to do anything?

Victor hated this so much. He didn’t like the thoughts, and he didn’t like where they were leading. His head hurt, and his eyes were dry. He blinked them a few times, and then, he just stopped thinking. 

***

***

**OUTTAKE: Benji at 7-11**

**Wrote this bc I felt like it, enjoy her**

Benji had managed to finish early at home. His dad needed his help with breaking up their old couch to put in the garbage, and Benji was so full of rage he managed to finish it early. 

“Are you okay?” His dad asked him as he took a hammer rather forcefully to the couch. 

Benji didn’t answer. He just picked up a sledgehammer and brought it down, smashing the wood under the plush exterior. His father didn’t ask again. 

He was beyond furious. There wasn’t a word in any dictionary or language to communicate how angry Benji was. Victor just wanted to be loved, he just wanted a family. Armando had no right to take that from him. 

God, Benji loved Victor so much. He loved him like silver. Silver, the softer, quieter metal. It didn’t shine as bright as gold, maybe, but it was just as beautiful. And silver, though few people knew it, was much more precious, and much rarer than gold. 

Benji felt silver when he was with Victor, a shining moon in the everlasting night. 

Silver, one of the most precious metals in the world. 

He’d thought he felt it for Derek, but all he had was a pile of spare aluminum in his chest. 

Victor was the real thing. Victor was a beautiful bit of silver Benji could hold in his hands and call his own. And no one would ever try to take Benji’s silver ever again. 

All Armando had ever felt was coal. But even Victor could take that and turn it into a diamond. 

When they finished, he asked Benji to go grab some sodas and chips from 7-11. Benji, sweating and raw with unbridled fury, agreed. 

He speed walked to the nearest store, his arms burning with the force of his swings and the tension in his muscles. He didn’t relax. He couldn’t. Victor was at home, hurting, because of someone he believed loved him.

Benji was just grabbing a cup for a Coke slushie when he saw a man that looked quite familiar. He was laughing with a few guys. 

He listened carefully. What were they calling him? 

“Come on, Armando,” one said with a laugh, “you really think some fairy kid would be able to beat me?”

Benji’s heart seized and he zeroed in on the man’s hands. His knuckles were split and barely scabbing over. 

This was Victor’s father. 

Benji abandoned the slushie machine in favor of following Armando out the door. He was leaning against a wooden electrical post, inspecting his split knuckles. 

Benji wondered if he’d remember him. Would Armando see him and recognize him from the party? Would he remember him kissing another boy in front of his own father? Would he try to hit him, too? 

In a rush of adrenaline and no conscious thought, Benji barked out, “Armando!”

Armando whirred around. He had a look of innocence and surprise on his face. Nowhere other than his knuckles did he seem injured. Victor didn’t even get a chance to fight back. 

Anger brewed in Benji like a storm. Victor was with Emily and Simon, so tired he couldn’t even move, and Armando was here on break from work. Didn’t Victor say he was overseeing the electrical in some buildings? He was management now? 

Benji remembered looking over at Victor this morning. Pain was settled deep in his eyes. He was so tense all over. That was Armando’s fault. And this disgusting filth of a man wasn’t even affected enough that he needed to take a day off work. 

Benji’s blood boiled as Armando observed him from a safe distance. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m your son’s boyfriend,” Benji told him. “And I think I’ve got some business with you.”

Armando stilled. And then, horrifically, he laughed. As if anything about this was funny. “You have business with me?” 

Benji stood his ground as Armando laughed again. 

“What do you think you’re gonna do?” Armando shouted. “What, are you gonna glitter me to death, you fucking queer?”

All at once, Benji stopped shaking. He was no longer as tense. He was at ease. He’d dealt with this before. 

“No,” he said calmly. “I don’t want to hurt you at all. I just wanna talk.”

Armando pursed his lips together. His beard was well kept, and it angered Benji that he didn’t even feel distraught enough to skip shaving. “All you queers are the fucking same, man. Too much a pussy for your own good. Go home and play with your little dolls. And tell that homo that he can go die.”

A name came to Benji, and he was overcome with sadness. Giovanni Melton. He was murdered by his father at only fourteen. 

Next, a cruel thought took Benji. Something so terrible, so sinister he could barely keep his knees from buckling under him. 

Would Victor be the next Giovanni? 

Benji wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t let Victor die. _He wouldn’t let Victor die._

“Victor isn’t going to die. I’m going to make sure of it. And you’re going to pay for what you did to him.”

Armando snickered. “Pay to who? To you?” He got real close to Benji. It just now occurred to him how dangerous this might be. “You think you and your pretty-boy punk ass are gonna be able to best me?”

Benji shrugged, feigning confidence he never had. “Maybe.”

Armando shook his head. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, man, get the hell away from me.”

Benji stared him down, refusing to move. After all, Armando was the one who’d approached him first. “Why’d you do it, man? He loved you. You were so important to him and you let him down.”

At first, Armando only glared, and Benji thought that’d be the end of it, but then he said, “I don't want a faggot for a son.” He shoved Benji in his chest. “Now get out of my face.”

Benji, in a move of pure stupidity, got closer and said, “Make me.”

Yeah, he was an idiot, and he knew it. 

Armando shoved him hard in the chest, and swung a hard right hook, hitting Benji right in the eye. On reflex, Benji swung back, but Armando dodged. All he hit was the wooden post behind him, splinters lodging deep inside his skin. He cried out in frustration, and Armando’s coworkers came out. They grabbed Armando by the shoulders and steered him away, shouting about the law and hitting minors. A 7-11 worker ran out the door toward them, and Benji bolted out of there.

All Benji could think about on the way to his house was Victor, his silver boy to Benji’s gold. Could Armando be arrested for what he did to his son? 

Then, Benji thought about Emily, the only mother Victor really had right now. 

God, Emily was gonna kill him, wasn’t she? 


	16. Comes Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is short, hence why this one comes out so soon. Not that this one is very long ://

Felix was staring down Simon like he was going to commit a murder.

“I thought you said he was safe?” Felix said. “This does not look  _ safe _ . What did you do, use him as a punching bag?”

“Armando did,” Benji supplied as he grabbed their bags. “I’ll explain everything I know, okay? Let’s just get him home.”

Felix inspected Benji’s face. “And what happened to  _ you _ ?”

Benji sighed and adjusted his grip on a bag. “Can we not do this now? Can we get Victor home, please?”

Felix gave the Spier family one last glare strong enough to level a building. His puppy eyes were no joke, and his scowl wasn’t, either. Felix’s eyes could take over the world alone, let alone the rest of him. 

Emily pulled Victor aside, making sure he knew that their home was always open to him and Benji. Victor assured her he understood, and Simon helped him into the back seat of his Audi. 

The car ride was silent. Felix was steaming in the passenger's seat as Simon had his hands right on the steering wheel. Victor and Benji held hands in the back seat. It seemed they all were trying to keep from waking the dead. Or maybe they were trying to hold off Felix’s wrath. 

Simon pulled up to the apartment building, and fear pooled in Victor’s gut at the sight of it. The last time he was here didn’t go very well. His breath ratcheted up a few notches as he stared at the building and his shoulders tensed. 

Benji squeezed his hand softly, three times in rapid succession; Victor squeezed back. His breathing eased on its own. Benji was there; he’d never let anyone, not even Armando hurt him. 

Simon and Felix carried his bags up the steps, ready to drop them at a moment’s notice to throw hands if they saw Armando. Victor was squeezing Benji’s hand harder with each step; Benji never complained, even when Victor was undoubtedly cutting off blood circulation to his fingers. 

By the time they reached Felix’s apartment, Victor’s blood was replaced entirely by adrenaline, his whole body vibrating with it. His fight or flight response had kicked in, and everything in him was telling him to  _ run _ . 

Felix unlocked the door and let everyone inside. Benji’s and Simon’s jaws dropped at the sight of the clutter, but they very quickly schooled their faces and went as directed to the couch to drop off their bags. Looking around, Victor was ashamed; it was because of him that Felix had to show more people the home he had so desperately tried to keep hidden. It was all Victor’s fault. 

Felix turned to them all and crossed his arms. “So, what happened?”

Simon briefly explained what he knew while Victor got himself resituated in the apartment. Felix busied himself by making sandwiches in the kitchen, seeming confused. He didn’t know where to direct his anger. Eventually, in a fit of fury, he slammed his hand on the counter and threw an empty pot across the kitchen. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” He shouted. “He could’ve  _ killed him _ !”

Victor sat on the couch, staring at the walls of things around him. Everyone was silent as Felix let out his anger in sharp, violent bursts. Victor never knew his best friend was capable of this. He was breathing heavily, seething, as he paced back and forth in the kitchen. 

“I will  _ kill that man _ !”

Simon took a wary step forward. “Felix, no. He’s stronger than all of us. Even Benji tried to take him. You’ll only get yourself hurt, too.”

Felix stared at Simon, and finally found something to direct his fury towards. “This is your fault! He was in your care! You were supposed to protect him! You were supposed to keep him safe!”

Simon stood there, his face pinched with sadness. “I know. You’re right.”

Felix rounded the counter, then seemed to lose his purpose. “What? Oh.” He slumped back. “What do we do now?”

Simon shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Victor looked at each one of them through the gaps in the clutter. Benji, who went hand to hand with Armando in defense of him. Felix, who went ballistic over the idea of his best friend getting hurt. And Simon, the rationality, making sure they all kept their heads and figuring out sensible ways to win in their battle. And even Bram, though he wasn’t there, always ready to pick everyone off the ground and nurse them back to health. Not to mention Nora, who was always intent on making Victor smile. And Emily and Jack, who were so willing to open up their home even though it was really in their best interest not to do so. And Justin and Ivy and Kim, always ready to be Victor’s brotherly-sisterly-siblingly advice. 

Victor wasn’t alone. He had a whole battalion in his arsenal. And with their help, he’d win the war. He’d get Pilar and Adrian and his mom out of captivity, and he’d go home, and Armando would be defeated. They’d win the war with every color of the rainbow. 

He stood and made his way to his friends, his family, his lover and brothers. They stared at him as he came forward, bruises stretching up and down his skin, scratches and cuts and closed gashes on display. He was a tapestry of abuse, shaded with blues and browns and reds and blacks, so many sickening colors he wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to cover them up. But he didn’t try; this was what he’d defeated. And he’d do it again if it meant he’d still be here with Felix and Simon and Benji, Bram and Justin and Kim and Ivy and Emily and Jack and Nora only one text away. 

“This isn’t anyone’s fault,” He told them, his voice stronger than it’d been in days. “Not anyone’s here, not anyone’s anywhere except Armando’s.” 

His father’s name felt foreign on his tongue, but he used it, anyway. He wasn’t his father anymore. He’d made that very clear.

“This isn’t anyone’s fault,” He repeated. “I went on a walk and went past my own home, and a man decided I wasn’t allowed. He tried to kill me. He was telling me to die right there. He was screaming for me to die.” Victor’s voice cracked at the memory, Armando’s vicious face towering over his, spitting vile words like it was the only thing he knew how to do. 

Benji’s eyes filled with tears as Victor spoke, and Felix paled. Simon stared at him, worried. They all waited for him to continue. So, he did.

“Armando Salazar assaulted me, a minor, on public property in front of my own building. He was trying to kill me. He only stopped when I went unconscious. He was trying to kill me. This is a crime. And I won’t let him get away with it. We just have to figure out what to do.”

Simon nodded with Victor’s words. “He assaulted a minor on public property for being gay,” He said. “That’s a hate crime. He could go to prison for that. Especially if you can prove he wanted you dead.”

“I’m sure we can prove it,” Benji jumped in. “He said it to me right in front of 7-11. He hit me, too.”

“Assault of two minors.” Simon nodded. “We could use this.”

Felix looked between the three of them. “Okay. So we know he committed a crime worthy of prison time. What do we do now?”

Simon pulled out his phone. “Leave that to me and my mom.”

***

Victor couldn’t fall asleep that night, and at 12:30 on the dot, yelling came from downstairs. 

His parents were in a full on Spanish screaming match. 

His mother had it. She was enraged. Armando was on the defense. They were probably waking up the whole building with their heated argument, every single tenant on every floor. Victor wouldn’t be surprised if they woke up everyone next door, too. 

She knew about what he did to Victor. She knew about what he did to Benji. She was infuriated with the very idea of her husband hitting two boys. It seemed she was no longer afraid of whether he’d hit her, too. Maybe she knew he was trying to kill her son. Maybe that made a difference. 

They were going on and on in Spanish, rapid words and syllables that Victor could hear through the floors. This was a big one, bigger than Victor had ever heard from anyone in his life. Isabel was done playing games with her family, and it showed. 

He was frozen on the couch as he listened, his limbs heavy with each word and completely true accusation they shot back and forth. Victor wondered if Adrian was okay; maybe he went to Pilar’s room and she held him as they tried to drown out the screams. Maybe they were both crying. Victor wished he could be a big brother again and hold his siblings as his parents’ argument wore on through the night. 

Isabel Salazar was furious, yelling at Armando like her life depended on it, and maybe, in a way, it did. Maybe she was shackled down by Armando, too, and she was finally breaking her chains. Maybe this was for everyone. 

It was almost 2 a.m. when there was a loud sound and a huge slam. Heavy footsteps stomped on the stairs before the main door of the building swung open and slammed shut so hard the window panes rattled. 

The building was silent. 

Felix stumbled out of his bedroom and into Victor’s little area, rubbing his eyes. “What just happened down there?” He asked him. 

Victor sat up, still in awe of what he’d heard. Felix sat next to him and waited for an answer, until finally Victor could muster up the four words he could find to explain that argument. Four little words that filled Victor up with every emotion possible, anger, sadness, relief, there were so many he couldn’t even think about naming them all. Four words that could change everything. 

“She kicked him out.” 


	17. I'm Making Tamales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all won't be able to even take this chapter sorry it's so short but I felt like it. The next update tho let me tell ya it's gonna knock your socks off oh man oh boy

Victor had been on the phone with Benji for over an hour talking about what happened last night. Felix was sat next to him, reading up on lionfish or something. Smells of spices and meats were wafting through the floorboards, and Victor so sorely missed home. His stomach clenched around nothing. He was starving, and the aromas of authentic Hispanic cuisine were not helping his plight.

“So,” Benji was saying, “let me get this straight. Your mom kicked your dad out of the apartment because he hit you, and you _aren’t_ going down there to talk to her?”

“What am I supposed to say, Benji?” Victor asked, readjusting himself on the couch. He had a heating pad on the back of his neck; sleeping on the couch really was not good for his spine. “I mean, it’s not like the last time I talked to her went very well.”

Benji sighed. “I don’t know, maybe ‘thanks for kicking out the homophobe,’ or, ‘thank you for defending me,’ or, ‘can I come home now?’ Also, I thought you said she said she supported you.”

Victor shrugged though Benji couldn’t see it. “It was complicated. She said she ‘needed time,’ whatever that means.”

“I think this is enough time, Vic.”

Victor bit his lip, fearful of the truth. “I can’t, Benji. What if I go downstairs and try to talk to her, and she doesn’t want to see me? I don’t think I can take it if that happens.”

“Look, love, I understand. And you don’t have to go. You could send a note or a text, or when we get back to school maybe find a way to give Pilar a message. Or, you could do nothing and everyone moves on from the night. Whatever you choose to do, I will support you. You deserve to do whatever you think is best for you. Whatever that is, whatever happens, I just want you to be as happy as you can be. Okay?”

Victor teared up a bit, and he chalked it up entirely to the lack of sleep he’d gotten. (How did he get so lucky to have Benji love him?) “Yeah, okay.”

There was a knock at the door, and Victor froze for a second. Could it be…? No, they didn’t know he was staying up here. Maybe it was one of the New York gang coming to check up on him, or Simon with an update on what to do about Armando. 

“Hang on, B, there’s a knock at the door.” Victor and Felix both stood up.

“I can get it,” Felix said.

“No, it’s alright, I can.” Victor insisted. 

Felix glanced at the door. “How about both of us?”

Victor shrugged and they both made their way around heaps of clutter to Felix’s front door, where Isabel Salazar stood, biting her lip, terrified. 

All Victor could do was stare.

His mom was here. Isabel was here. She was _here_ , in front of him, like Victor never thought she would be again. 

“Victor?” Benji said over the phone. “Is everything okay?” He sounded so worried, it snapped Victor from his trance.

“Uh, y-yeah, yeah, Benji, it’s, uh, it’s fine.” He stuttered. “Uh, hey I’m gonna call you back later, alright?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Benji was panicking now. “Do I need to come over?”

“No, Benji, it’s fine. I gotta go.”

“Okay. Update me. I love you.”

Victor stared at his mom. Was she actually here? “Um, yeah, you too.” He hung up.

Felix was staring at her, too. She looked on at them both, shy. 

“Uh, hi, guys,” she said softly. _God_ , how Victor missed her voice. “I’m not sure what you heard last night, but Armando is gone now. For good.”

Neither boy spoke. _Was she actually here?_

“Um, well…” She went on. “I’m making tamales, if either of you are interested. I know they’re one of your favorites, Victor. I figure we have a lot to catch up on.”

Victor would not cry. He would not cry. He would not. He wouldn’t.

Too late. 

Isabel smiled at him, though it was full of sadness. “Oh, mi amor.”

And that was all it took. Victor was bawling in the doorway of his best friend’s apartment in front of the mother he thought he’d never see again. Isabel took him in his arms, and he stood there, weeping like a goddamn baby, pouring his heart out in whatever language came out first. He didn’t think about it anymore. Isabel was holding him. His mother was holding him, and nothing mattered anymore except this, here, now. 

Isabel stepped back, stroking his tear-covered, bruise-streaked cheeks with two gentle thumbs. “Do you two want to come down for lunch?”

With great effort, Victor nodded. She smiled, her eyes wet, too. Isabel looked between both her and Felix like this was everything she’d ever needed right here. “Come on, my boys,” she choked out. “The tamales are ready.”

Finally, _finally_ , Victor Salazar was coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned I thirst over comments have I mentioned that yet have I mentioned that your comments power me to write faster y'all I live for your comments have I mentioned that? have I yet mentioned I am a Slut For Attention? Is that a thing I've mentioned?


	18. I'll Be Homeward Bound in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I'll return to you somehow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where my choir peeps at we all know this song 
> 
> Note to self: 128 pages is too many for Google Docs to handle, she does not like it.
> 
> Yes you heard that right. Storyboard + 19 chapters makes 128 pages.
> 
> I'd just like y'all to keep in mind from now on when you look at this word count that an average YA novel is 60,000-90,000 words. Just an FYI

Walking through his old apartment doorway was simultaneously the most thrilling and terrifying experience he could’ve ever dreamed it’d be. It kicked up his fight or flight response, and for once, he chose neither. Despite what his brain was telling him, he knew he was safe. The feeling was almost surreal. 

He took a deep breath in and smelled the tamales cooking, his breath hitching as he also took in the familiar scents of home. His mother’s perfume, his brother’s shampoo, Armando’s aftershave. Once he picked that one up, he stopped trying to smell it all again and went back to just observing the room. 

It looked so similar, yet there were dozens of changes all over. Every picture of either Victor or Armando had been taken down, replaced by empty hooks and odd spaces. It was clear something used to be there, and Victor seemed to remember whether it was his face or his attacker’s. Beside that, they finally finished painting, and the color matched the rest of the room quite well. It calmed something in Victor. The couch was the same; his grandmother’s quilt was now laying on the cushions, and Victor knew his mother had been upset last night. Rightfully so, he figured; last night was something for the record books. 

Victor stared at the quilt, and it was getting harder to keep from crying as he did. Isabel came up beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re finally home, mi amor.” 

Victor nodded and whispered, “Me too.”

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry it took so long. I just didn’t know what to do. It was so shameful letting him hurt you like that but I was so scared. I was just so scared. I wish I had done something.”

“No,” Victor said, “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if he hurt you, too. Or Pilar or Adrian. I just wanted you guys to be safe, Mom.”

“We weren’t,” she insisted, her voice cracking. “It just wouldn’t stop. It was like a police state. He wouldn’t let us go, he wouldn’t leave unless we were all gone. I wanted to see you. But he would’ve known. It was too dangerous for the both of us.”

Victor took a shaky breath and sat on the couch. He took the quilt in his hands and put it to his nose. He took a strong, deep breath and smelled his sister’s and mother’s mixed perfumes and his brother’s shampoo, and underneath that, his abuela’s gentle scent from long before she passed. Something about the way she’d smelled always calmed Victor, and she looked at him like she knew a secret, like she knew his secret. She looked at him like she saw the future, and something about that always calmed the storm inside him. He wondered if she could’ve seen this. 

“I know, Mom,” he said softly. “I just wish things could’ve been different. But I don’t blame you.”

She sat next to him and gingerly took his face in her hands. “I need you to know this, mijo,” she kept sharp eye contact with him as she went on, “I love you. I will always love you. I didn’t need time. I will never need time. You are my son, you are my child, and I love you. What happened was so wrong, and so shameful. I should’ve protected you.”

“You couldn’t have protected me, Mami,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. The bruises hurt, but he didn’t care. Maybe she’d understand through some sort of telepathic bond between mother and son. He’d find out. “No one could’ve.”

Isabel sobbed. “Te extrañé mucho, Victor.” 

Victor was crying again, so painful, so relieving, so finally at peace. “Yo también te extrañé, mamá.”

She pulled him to his arms, soothing his tears with Spanish words, crying as she did. 

At the sounds of their mother crying, Pilar and Adrian rushed out of their bedrooms. Pilar looked ready to attack, and Adrian did, too, though Victor was sure he wouldn’t be able to do much. 

“Oh, my God,” Pilar screamed and, almost without realizing it, carried herself to them and collapsed next to Victor on the couch. Adrian followed her, and they were both crying, and they were all crying, and one glance over confirmed, yep, Felix was crying, too, and was this what it felt like when someone reached Enlightenment? Victor couldn’t think it was that different. 

Adrian climbed up into Victor’s lap and held onto his shirt like his life depended on it. Pilar was at his back, squeezing his middle and crying into his shoulder. And Isabel had her arms around all three of them, holding her children tight. Finally, they were a family again. 

Victor’s phone vibrated with what he assumed was a text; he ignored it. 

He cried so hard his head hurt and his throat was tight and he felt dehydrated. His body ached all over, and everything was good. Everything was so, so good. 

Isabel looked up at Felix and held her hand out to him. He took it, and she pulled him forward. He got down on his knees, joining the hug like the brother he was. 

“I’m so happy to have my boys home,” Isabel cried, wiping her eyes. “I missed you both so much.” 

Victor wasn’t sure how much longer they sat there together, but when they finally broke apart, the light in the room had shifted and the scent of tamales had settled into the pores of the apartment. His stomach growled, and Isabel laughed. 

“Come on,” she said. She wiped her eyes again and led everyone to the kitchen. “Lunchtime.”

Victor’s phone buzzed as his mother plated and served tamales for the five of them. He pulled his phone from his pocket and found a text in the Found Fam groupchat. The groupchat included himself, Felix, Benji, Simon, Bram, Justin, Kim, Ivy, Nora, Lake, and Mia, and all of them were freaking out. Victor scrolled up to find the source of their excitement:

A picture of Victor, bruises and all, being held by his mother and sister with his little brother in his lap. They were all crying, and each of them had a smile on their face. The only caption was  **He’s safe** . Felix must have taken the picture while no one was looking. Victor got choked up all over again looking at it. He saved it to his phone. 

Everyone was screaming in the groupchat, crying emojis flying in from all angles, exclamation points all over the place. After that initial text, not a single lowercase letter could be found. Victor’s heart swelled all over again as the messages slowed and he scrolled through them all. He sent a simple heart emoji in the chat, and his phone erupted once again with an onslaught of messages. He got private messages from Simon and Bram sending him love, and one simple private message from Benji saying,  **I love you so much call me once you can** . 

Victor smiled down at his phone, then turned it on silent and slid it onto the counter faced down. He’d explain everything later. Right now, he was with his family.

They all sat around the dining room table and ate. Victor showed Felix how to properly eat tamales (he tried to bite into the corn husk) and Isabel asked everyone about school. What happened that day was never mentioned, though it was in everyone’s words as they spoke. 

“Oh, school has been kind of weird,” Pilar said. She didn’t mention it was because she was terrified their father might show up at school for either of them.

“Adrian has been acting out in class a little bit,” Isabel told Victor. She didn’t say anything about how it was because he missed his brother and lived with a monster at home. 

“My grades have slipped this quarter,” Victor told them remorsefully. No one needed him to add that it was because of all the stress and fear he’d been living with day in and day out.

“Things have been tight lately, money-wise, and it’s been difficult to focus in school,” Felix supplied. He didn’t add anything about how it was because he had an extra guest at home, and he was scared shitless for his best friend. 

“I’ve been trying to get more students for my piano lessons,” Isabel said. Everyone knew it was because they were no longer being supported by their father and they needed more money to keep afloat.

“I was thinking about getting a job,” Pilar said. It was clear to everyone this was so she could help support their family.

“I can pick up more shifts at Brasstown,” Victor added, so he could have more money for his family.

Isabel seemed upset, but she said nothing. They were in a rough spot now. Now that Victor was home and Armando had left, there was a lot of stress around money. Victor found himself wishing he’d never come out that night, but he immediately put a stop to those thoughts. This was who he was; it was only fair. The rest of it had nothing to do with him, only Armando. 

They sat in silence while Isabel boiled a kettle of water on the stove for some tea. As much as Victor loved coffee, he had definitely missed his mother’s peppermint tea. 

She set out five cups with sugar and tea bags and waited for the kettle to whistle. Felix looked around the table like he was finally back home; Victor couldn’t imagine his own face looked much different. 

A quiet yet high-pitched whistle started emitting from the kettle, and Isabel got to work, pouring water into each mug and setting a small lid on top to let them steep. He seemed to be weighing a thought in her head before finally saying, “Felix?”

Felix glanced up at Isabel and she put her back to the counter to address him. 

“Yeah, Ms. S?” He asked, wary.

She tilted her head, regarding him, eyes soft. “I just… want to thank you. For taking care of my boy when I couldn’t.”

Felix’s eyes went soft, big puppy eyes working like a charm on Victor’s mother. “I’m just glad I could. I wish I could’ve done better.”

Victor shook his head and jumped in, “No, Felix, you were perfect.”

Now Felix’s puppy eyes were on him, and Victor almost couldn’t even take it. “Brothers?”

Victor reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Brothers. Always.”

Isabel smiled, her eyes wet. “I’m so, so happy to have my sons home.”

Felix was crying now, puppy eyes all full of love and relief. “Thank you, Isabel.”

She tilted her head, and Felix amended shortly, “Mom.”

***

After they finished their tea, Felix excused himself to go upstairs to gather Victor’s things and give him time with his family. As much as Victor appreciated the gesture, the second the door closed behind him he sort of wished he never left. This was Victor’s family, and he knew that, and he was safe here,  _ he knew that _ , but the last time he was here… 

Victor sat down on the couch, Pilar and Adrian at his sides, Isabel sitting so she could face them. She couldn’t get her smile off her face. Victor couldn’t breathe. What was taking Felix so long? He had to remind himself it had only been one minute and sometimes minutes stretched on for eternity. Victor remembered the night in Willacoochee, the night in the car, the night he stood in front of his family as they all sat where they were now, mum. He remembered each eternity passing, each second moving at a snail’s pace, each minute dropping another brick in his stomach as he cried on the floor of the motel hallway, as he curled up on the back seat and tried to go to sleep, as he stood in front of his parents and waited for the other shoe to drop. 

This was another eternity now, waiting for someone to break the silence, admit to the false sense of security, tell him Armando was on his way. They were his accomplices. They never loved him, would never accept him. His core was sore with the tension he held there so tightly. 

Isabel reached out and touched Victor’s knee. He jumped and flinched, and she withdrew. With one look at her face, Victor regretted everything. He never should have come down for lunch. He never should have opened the door. He never should have lived after that first night. 

Now, everyone looked concerned. “What is it, mi amor?” Isabel asked softly. 

Victor yearned for the safety he’d felt an hour ago. He wished he could travel back there, when his family surrounded him. “I guess…” He mulled his thoughts over, trying to put this in a way that wouldn’t insult the people around him. “It’s just… after what happened here with… him… it’s just a little hard to feel safe again.”

Isabel had a look on her face like Victor told her her newborn puppy had died. The look of devastation on her face was total.

“I’ll get there,” Victor stressed. “I just need a bit of time, I guess.”

Adrian took Victor’s hand gently in his. “Do you want to borrow my night light? I still use it, but you can have it if you want.”

Victor’s heart swelled at the offer and he smiled at his little brother. “No, buddy, that’s okay. I think I’d feel even better if you kept it.”

Adrian nodded, understanding. “That’s a good call.”

Victor wrapped an arm around Adrian’s shoulders and squeezed him tight. He ignored the pain he felt in his body and focused on how good it felt to hold his little brother again. He’d missed him so much. 

“Victor,” Isabel said softly. She scooched forward and gently, gently touched his knee. “I know things will be difficult. But we are all willing to do anything we can to make this as easy as possible for you. We love you so much, mijo.”

With a soft nod, Victor squeezed his mother’s hand. “I know. I just need some time to adjust.”

“We will be here for you for whatever you need.”

Pilar nodded in agreement. “I know it’s gonna be hard, but you are still our brother. No matter what, you are family.”

Victor looked between the three of them. “Then, why did it take so long for you to reach out?”

He didn’t mean to ask, honestly. He loved his family, and he was glad to be back. But he had to know the truth. He had to know why, for so long, he was unwanted.

Isabel sighed. “We were scared. Arm-- he told us if we ever talked to you, he’d find out. He told us he would kill you. We needed to make sure you’d be safe.”

Victor looked down at his hands, his intertwined fingers in his lap. “But he couldn’t have always known.”

Pilar sniffed, and when she spoke, it sounded like she was trying not to cry. “He found out about the day in the hallway.” Her eyes were red as she focused on him. Her pleas for his understanding were written all over his face. “He could’ve found out about anything. He showed up at school a couple times just to find me. That first day when you called my name, he was behind you.” Her voice cracked, and the tears slipped down her cheeks. “We had to wait until it was the right time. We had to wait until he left, but he wouldn’t ever leave. He was always here.”

Victor felt a whole new kind of anger for Armando Salazar. It wasn’t enough that he had to terrorize him, but his family, too? He wished he could’ve gotten a couple hits in himself the other day.

“It’s okay now, Victor.” Isabel insisted. “He’s gone. We’ll get the locks changed on the doors, put locks on the windows, tell the landlord to keep him away. It’ll be okay, mi amor. We’ll be okay.”

There were more tears now, and so much pleading on all of their faces. They wanted Victor so badly to understand, and he did. It didn’t change how much it hurt, though. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get over the way it felt to watch Pilar run away from him that morning, even if he understood why. 

“Okay,” Victor said softly. “Okay.”

As he looked at the faces around him, his loving mother and two strong little siblings, he felt something he never thought he’d feel. 

Sapphire.

There was a gentle knock on the door before it opened. Victor’s heart seized until he heard Felix call out, “It’s me, I’m back.”

Pilar put her forehead to Victor’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Victor.” She said. “You’re home.”

***

Victor’s room was trashed. 

He didn’t have to wonder why. He was just curious about when it happened? The night he came out? The night after? Some random day Armando was especially angry about the whole ordeal? Maybe after he’d beaten him to unconsciousness? Maybe the night after he punched Victor’s boyfriend in the face? What if it was last night?

Felix followed him in and whistled his shock. “Wow. This is, uh… Some interesting decor.”

Victor stared at the room. His bed sheets were half ripped off his mattress, which was askew on his bed frame. His dresser drawers were thrown open and his clothes lay on the floor in a heap. Everything that was on his walls were ripped off and tossed on the floor. Whatever had been on his desk had been swept off, and lay abandoned among the piles of clothes. His window was smashed. For some reason, the mess struck a chord in him. He was deeply offended.

“He destroyed my room,” He muttered. 

Victor sighed, shoving away the devastation inside him, and he got to work. Felix helped him put it back together in some semblance of livable. Felix fixed his bed and picked up all his posters and set everything back on his desk. Meanwhile, Victor went through his clothes, refolding them and putting them back in his drawers, which each had to be readjusted back onto the track. Some of his clothes were ripped. Some had small tears while others were almost, if not completely, ripped in half. Once they finished, they swept up the glass from the window and threw away everything that was unsalvageable. It was almost nine at night when they sat on Victor’s bed, finally finished. His sheets were ripped, but he didn’t care. A bed was a bed; he could buy new ones. 

“So,” Felix said, “I guess I should head back upstairs, huh?”

Victor put a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “Felix, thank you so much. Not just for helping me with my room, but for everything. You were there for me when no one else was. I can never thank you enough.”

Felix sighed and gave Victor a smile. “I wanted to do it. I’m just glad I could.” He gave Victor a tight hug and stood. “Alright, I’m gonna go upstairs. I’ll come down tomorrow, alright?”

Victor nodded. “Thank you.”

Felix just smiled and left, closing the door behind him. 

Victor glanced around his room, his bare walls, his scratched up dresser, his ripped sheets. This was his room; this was where he was supposed to be. 

He pulled out his phone and did the first thing that came to mind: he called Benji.

“Hey, handsome,” Benji said, sounding relieved. “I was starting to think I might not hear from you today.”

Victor leaned back against his pillows. His own pillows. Because he was back in his room. “No, it’s just been a crazy day.”

“I’ll bet,” Benji sounded happy, and playful, and God, Victor missed this voice. He missed this attitude. Things were too serious with them lately. “Can you give me a rundown of today’s events?”

Victor smiled and explained how his mom had come to the door and invited him and Felix down for tamales. They went down and “Benji, we all hugged and cried for, like, an hour.” They ate and talked, then had tea and talked some more. Then, he explained what happened when Felix left and what they talked about. They ordered pizza for dinner and his mom said grace and thanked the Lord for giving her strength to make Armando leave and for bringing Victor home. Then, he explained the state of his room, and that it took him and Felix over an hour to clean it all up. He explained the smashed window and admitted he was nervous about his dad coming in when Benji reminded him that he was too high up with no fire escape to find a way inside through the window. Victor felt stupid, and relieved. Maybe he’d be safe, after all.

“So, everything’s okay?” Benji asked.

“Everything’s okay,” Victor reiterated. “It’s weird, though. I’m sitting in my own bed.”

Victor could picture Benji’s adorable little frown as he said, “Victor, it’s your own bed.”

“And it’s been weeks since I’ve sat on it.”

Benji sighed audibly. “Yeah.”

Victor yawned, and Benji laughed. “Tired?”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Okay, babe, I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Victor glanced at the door and said softly, “Hey, Ben? I love you?”

“I love you, too, Vic. Get some sleep, okay?”

Victor nodded, then remembered Benji couldn’t see. “Okay. You too.”

“No promises.” Benji told him. “Goodnight, love.”

“‘Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still a slut for validation if y'all want more you gotta give me some comments they make me so happy to read y'all make my day sometimes i swear


	19. If the Sky Weren't Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orange is nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here's the thing: I have never been to one of these things, I don't know if something like this exists, I was in a mood and it made me happy and I figured it would make you all happy so shut up and enjoy it like I know you wanna

Simon sat across from Victor in that booth in WaHo, observing him carefully. 

“Tell me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but you seem happier than I’ve ever seen you before.”

Victor tilted his head in thought. “Well, there was that one night at the gay bar.”

Simon laughed at the memory. “Katya pulled you on stage! I almost forgot about that.”

Victor nodded, smiling. “Still one of the best nights of my life.”

That earned him a grin, something fond and brotherly. “I’m glad. And I’m glad things are looking up for you.”

Victor sighed. “They are. But I still don’t want you to go.”

Simon’s smile faded, though the emotions were still in his eyes. “We’ll always be right here for you. All you gotta do is send a quick text. And, hey,” Simon continued, eyes serious. “Don’t freeze us out this time, okay?”

Victor nodded. “I won’t. I’m still sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Victor. I get it. I just wish you could’ve told us. I would’ve sent you to my parents. They’d have been so happy to have you.”

They were quiet for a while as they waited for their food to get there. Eventually, Simon piped up, “You look like you’re healing well.”

“Oh, yeah,” Victor said, “thanks. There’ll be a lot of scarring, though.”

Simon shrugged and eyed the healing cut on his cheek. “That’s what happens when something heals.”

Victor didn’t know what to say, or how to ask what he wanted to ask, but he needed answers. “Simon?”

“Yeah, Vic?”

He took a deep breath. “Do you think it’s possible to have scars on your brain?”

Simon studied him carefully before speaking in a calculated manner. “I think so. I think trauma can leave scars. That’s where some mental disorders come from. You’re not born with PTSD, and you’re not always born with other mental illnesses. Sometimes there are things that’ll scar the brain tissue, I think.”

Victor wasn’t sure what answer he wanted, but this one didn’t assure him as much as he wanted it to. “Oh.”

Simon seemed remorseful. “I know it’ll be tough, Victor. And I’m sorry about that. But I know you; you’ll get through this.”

He tried to smile, though it was weak at best. “Thanks, Si.”

The waitress brought out their food, waffles for them both. Every time they brought out their food and it smelled as good as it did, Victor felt a new wave of shock. The restaurant really didn’t look like much, but their food proved otherwise every time. 

“So,” Simon started as he drowned his waffles in syrup, “how’s Benji?”

He was giving Victor a look like he knew more than Victor did, and it took him a moment to realize he meant… other things.

“Well,” Victor said pointedly, “he seemed pretty happy this morning. He’s healing well.”

Simon chuckled. “Okay, Victor.”

“How’s Bram?” Victor asked, digging into his own plate of waffles.

A smile lit up Simon’s features, beautiful and loving. “He’s good, he’s… he’s really good. Not really looking forward to going back to New York, but he’s good.”

Victor looked at Simon and remembered the conversation with Bram the other day. He’d told him a lot about their letters in high school, and without a moment’s thought, Victor blurted, “Did you and Bram ever have sex in high school?”

And Victor may have spoken a little too loudly, because they drew unwelcome looks from people at nearby tables. Simon, shocked, put his fork down and gave the onlookers friendly nods before turning back to Victor. “I mean… yeah. Eventually. Why? Have you and Benji…?”

Victor shook his head. “I’m not even sure where I would start.”

“Well,” Simon lowered his voice, “do you wanna know?”

“I’m not sure.” Yes he was, and yes he did.

Simon tilted his head, regarded him carefully, and said, “Well, I mean, you just have to be careful. STD’s are no joke.”

“Oh, my God, Simon.”

“I’m serious.” He stressed. “You just have to make sure you use condoms, and you douche, whichever one of you ends up bottoming if you… go there. And my mom has condoms if you ever need one, I’m sure you could find a way to get some without her even finding out. But they’re there for you, so use them.”

Victor’s face was presumably bright red. “I regret asking you this.”

Simon laughed. “Listen, Vic, I’m always here if you ever need to talk. Whatever questions you have, one of us in New York will probably have an answer, okay? And I think we’d all much rather have you ask us weird questions than try to find answers yourself. Also, remember, porn is unrealistic.”

Victor buried his face in his hands, his ears burning. “Please stop talking now.”

Simon laughed again. “Sure, now eat. I have a surprise for you and we need to get there on time.”

***

Simon drove Victor to their surprise destination, keeping quiet even as Victor relentlessly asked where they were going and what the surprise was. 

When they finally arrived, Victor saw the playground he and Benji went to all those Saturdays ago. It was mostly empty, except for their small group of friends standing near the slides. Simon parked and led him to the group, where Benji was standing at the front with Bram. Benji reached out to Victor, and they engaged in a soft kiss, which earned cheers from their friends. Victor felt his face warm and buried his blush in Benji’s neck, using the chance to breathe him in. He always smelled so nice, like soft cologne and warm coffee and peppermint and worn leather. Victor loved the way he smelled.

When Victor’s blush finally subsided, he took a step back from his boyfriend and regarded everyone around him. They were all dressed for a special occasion, it seemed. Even Simon was, Victor realized now that he saw him with the rest of the group.

Justin was, as usual, wearing flashy makeup, but was also sporting booty shorts and a white crop top, with a white leather jacket with rainbow fringe on the sleeves and chest. If Victor saw correctly, there was also a painted rainbow on the back. Kim was wearing a rainbow mesh t-shirt and white leggings, and their eyes were a flash of bright colors. Bram was wearing a black mesh shirt and white cuffed jeans, and a rainbow vest over it. Ivy was wearing booty shorts, too, and a white t-shirt, and rainbow suspenders, and her face was a full-on rainbow. Simon was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, but they had rainbow handprints all over him, and he was wearing eyeliner. Benji had on a shirt with rainbow splatters on it, and, if Victor saw correctly, two rainbows painted on the butt of his jeans. 

Victor eyed them all, wary. “What is this?”

“This is us,” Justin said, “taking you to a pride color run. It’s new.”

They all looked so excited. Victor was lost.

“A what?”

Bram smiled at him like he was an innocent little baby, and maybe he was. “It’s kind of like pride. Except, instead of just a regular pride, you throw colors. That’s why you wear white. It’s pride, just a bit more… messy.”

Victor could barely contain his smile, wary as it may have been. “You’re taking me to a pride?”

“Well, someone has to, honey!” Kim shouted.

Victor looked down at himself. He was wearing a red shirt and black gym shorts. Certainly nothing pride-worthy. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

Bram picked up a duffel bag he’d apparently been hiding behind himself this whole time and held it out to Victor. “We got you covered.”

Victor opened the duffel bag and found a white t-shirt and white pants. He wanted to ask where his rainbow came in, but he refrained. There would be something, he was sure. 

They took him back to Simon’s car and covered him as he changed--Benji was dutifully facing away the whole time, which Victor was thankful for--then regarded him excitedly. Victor felt like a puritan amongst sinners, and he felt extremely left out. He wasn’t a puritan, never was, and he wanted to feel a part of this community. 

“Something is missing,” Kim said, their eyes dragging up and down his body, their lips quirked into a mischievous smile. 

Everyone nodded like they knew something he didn’t. Simon, with a secretive grin and a gleam in his eye, held up one finger and went around the car to the trunk. Kim and Justin followed. Ivy stepped forward and procured eyeliner and eyeshadow she must have had in her back pocket, and got to work. She kept it simple, just white on his lids with a swipe of the black liner along his lashes. She highlighted his cheekbones and pulled out a lip gloss that she applied liberally to his lips, then threw the makeup in the car, tucked the gloss in his pocket “just in case,” and deemed him complete. 

He didn’t feel complete. He was missing the color the rest of them had. He wanted it. He went too long hiding his colors, and he was done. He wanted a rainbow painted across his back like Justin or on his butt like Benji or all over like Simon. He wanted to  _ look _ the part, too. 

And that was when Simon, Kim, and Justin came back, draping a thin layer of fabric over his shoulders and tying it around his neck like a cape through the two holes in either corner. This was something that was meant to be hung.

Victor reached for the fabric, inspecting what exactly they placed around his shoulders.

It was a pride flag, all six colors printed on a soft linen. 

He knew Edna’s no-cape rule, but he had to admit he felt like a superhero with it on. 

“Do you love it?” Bram asked, his hands squeezing around Simon’s bicep.

Victor, at a loss for words, nodded. He did love it. God, he loved it more than anything. 

“It’s a pride flag of your very own!” Kim told him, their excitement palpable. “Just for you, our special baby gay.”

Victor could have cried. He was so lost in how he felt, the only thing he understood was a great big feeling of  _ finally. _

_ Finally  _ he was free to be the gay man he was.  _ Finally _ he didn’t have to live in fear of what it meant for him or the people around him.  _ Finally _ he didn’t have to hide anymore. 

Finally, finally,  _ finally _ , he could let his colors fly.

Simon wrapped an arm around him, and Victor noticed Justin was recording, and he was so very happy. 

He was crying. 

Benji stood next to him and kissed his cheek, and Victor turned and kissed him back. On camera. In public. Wearing a pride flag.

Victor wiped his cheeks and Ivy complained about  _ just doing his makeup _ and Victor could hear music and he shouted, “Let’s go to pride!” And everyone screamed with him.

***

The crowd was alive.

Music was booming in Victor’s ears and people were jostling him left and right. Normally, this type of atmosphere would have been too much for Victor. But instead, he felt right at home.

Everywhere he looked there were streaks of color in the air and pride flags all over the place. Men and women were shirtless and covered in paint, and everyone had on a rainbow and everyone had on white. No one here was unlike Victor. 

Simon was right. The best thing about being gay is the community. 

Here, Victor could hold Benji’s hand. No one would be mad. No one would hurt them. No one would care. They’d be happy for them. They’d understand their love.

Victor took Benji’s hand in his. The music was too loud to tell him everything Victor was feeling, so he settled to squeeze his hand three times. Benji beamed at him and squeezed back three times.

They passed a color mural on a canvas, and another that said “the first pride was a riot” in big, bold, angry letters. There was an enlarged picture of a man with a jacket which said on the back, “If I die of AIDS - forget burial - just drop my body on the steps of the FDA” over a pink triangle. There was a picture of a huge blanket in a field, and a black man in a black and white picture next to Martin Luther King, Jr. Victor had no clue what any of it meant. He made a mental note to ask Simon later.

Out of the corner of Victor’s eye, he caught people holding signs. With a better look, he saw they were protestors. Their signs said things like “God hates you!” and “Repent!” along with the even more creative ones “Leviticus 18:22” and “Man shalt not lie with man,” along with some really good ones, “Trump 2020” stuffed in there. Couples consisting of two men and two women made points to go over there and kiss in front of them.

Justin followed Victor’s line of sight and steered him away. “This is a gay party,” he shouted, “not a hate fest!”

Everything was lit in colors and explosions. People were dancing in the street, screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs, songs like  _ Don’t Stop Me Now _ and  _ Bloom _ and so many others. Victor was very quickly getting drunk off it all. He kept getting scared he was losing Benji in the fray, but he would always squeeze, one, two, three, in rapid succession, and he’d always get three taps back.

After they were there for an hour or so, three sirens blared long, loud notes, and everyone started screaming. Victor thought he was about to die, but everyone fled to the sidewalks and colors started flying through the air in big huge puffs. Justin took Victor’s flag to keep it safe. There were monsoons of colors being thrown to Lady Gaga, gigantic streams of reds and blues and greens and purples being thrown around Victor, landing on his clothes and staining them with color. Benji screamed in delight beside him, and bags were being passed around with colored powder. Victor got his hands on a bag of purple and got a handful, tossing it up in the air with glee. 

Hours passed as everyone played in the colors, whoops and hollers everywhere throughout the day, clouds of colors staining the skies. Each time Victor looked up, the sky was a different color, beyond blue. Sometimes he’d glance to the heavens and see them streaked in red or orange. Sometimes he’d see them yellow, and he’d be reminded of his love for Benji, and sometimes they’d be green and he’d remember his friendship and brotherhood with Felix. Sometimes the skies would be a dark blue, and he’d pause to bask in the rekindled love he shared with his birth family. Sometimes he’d see purple, and he’d think of Mia and Lake and how glad he was to have them in his life. And sometimes, he’d see pink, and he’d feel overwhelming love and gratitude for the Spier family for offering their love and their home to him.

Pride lasted well past sunset into the night, but by nine, Victor was exhausted, and everyone else was, too. Hand in hand, the seven of the walked the two blocks to the playground they left Simon’s car at so they could head home. 

As they passed under the street lights, the sound fading in the distance, Victor never could have been happier. He’d never felt safer. 

“Hey, guys,” Justin said. He ran forward under the next street light, then threw a puff of orange into the air and let it rain down on everyone. Victor felt the color seep through his pores and into his veins, nestling right next to the gold where it was supposed to be. The orange shimmered well into the night.


	20. 'Goodbye' is Not in My Vocabulary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye, my love, if there never was a word more sinister yet sweet as this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh let me know if y'all wanna converse we can talk about the show or smth I can link my insta since I deleted tumblr since I never figured out how to use tumblr let me know we can have some chats  
> also y'all are gonna be living for chapter 21 it's like,,, all fluffy I couldn't stop smiling writing it it's so soft

Victor was never very fond of airports. He was never sure why until now.

The New York crew was heading back to NYU. Spring break was over.

Another thing Victor was never fond of? Saying goodbye.

It always seemed so impossible to let go. He’d clung to each of them like it was the only thing he knew how to do, weeping into their shoulders like the trainwreck he was. Simon had rubbed his back and promised to always be there for him. Victor believed him, but it still hurt to watch them go. 

Benji gave them each a hug goodbye, then held Victor as he watched them hug Nora, Felix, and SImon’s parents. 

Everything hurt again, but this time it wasn’t because Victor’s life was over, it wasn’t because there was a complete, total devastation in him; it was because he was mourning the week he’d had healing. The week was over, and Victor wasn’t sure what he’d do now without Simon and Bram leading him by the hand to self love.

Simon gave Victor a small look before he took him to the side. 

“Victor, it’ll be okay.”

Victor nodded, wiping the tears from his face. “I know. It’s just… everything was so hard for so long. You guys made it better.”

Simon smiled and adjusted his own jacket on Victor’s shoulders. “Now it’s your turn to make it better.” Simon glanced over at their group, and Victor followed his gaze to where Benji was hugging Kim and talking to them about God knows what. “And Victor?”

Victor glanced back at Simon. “Yeah?”

“I know things may get hard, but don’t push him away,” Simon told him, nodding his head toward Benji. “His love for you is real. And no matter how much you think he might be better off without you, just remind yourself that he is happy. Because he is.” 

Victor nodded and gazed back at Benji. He glanced over and gave Victor a bright, loving grin. Glittering gold bubbled in his chest as he shyly waved back. 

Simon shook his head, chuckling. “And Victor?”

“Hm?”

“If you ghost us again, I’m not above kidnapping and taking you to New York with me.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat, or…?”

Simon laughed. He threw an arm around Victor’s shoulders and walked him back to their group.

“Ready to go?” Bram asked Simon.

Simon nodded and looked down at Victor. “Remember your community, Victor.”

Victor pulled Simon’s jacket tight around his middle. “I will.”

“This is not goodbye, man.” Simon gave him one last squeeze, hugged his parents one more time, then went off with his friends through the gate. 

Victor sighed. He reached deep inside himself, grasping until he found it. 

A shining orange in his chest. He’d never let go again. 

***

When Victor got home that night, he sat on his bed, and reached into a hidden pocket in his jacket. 

In there, he kept seven pictures: one of himself with the New York crew, one of a smiling Benji, one of a slightly younger Felix, one of a much younger Pilar, one of baby Adrian, one of his mother, and one of his father. He kept those in there since he got back from New York. He’d added the picture of Benji not long after Spring Fling since he found it in Benji’s room and asked if he could keep it (“Why?” “Because it’s adorable.” “Fine, just don’t be weird.”) and the picture of Felix after he moved in and found it in one of the heaps of things. He took them out at night on Felix’s couch when he couldn’t sleep and flipped through them. He used his flashlight to see them. They all had tear stains on them, and fingerprints where he’d touched with longing one too many times. It had been a dark time. He’d felt so alone. 

Victor took the pictures and got to his feet, looking around the room. He got some tape from his desk and approached his barren walls. All of his posters, even his calendar, had been ripped beyond repair, and his walls felt achingly plain without the decor they once had.

Once Victor could, he’d get picture frames. Maybe he’d get string lights and pin them up there. He’d always liked the way that looked. For now, this would have to do. 

He taped his pictures deliberately to the wall, one at a time, painstakingly slow, making sure all of them were secure enough that they wouldn’t fall. Six pictures side by side, all joy and smiles and excitement in each one. The New York crew outside the gay club. Benji in his leather jacket, laughing, a perfect candid photo. Felix, puppy eyes crinkling at the corners, looking just above the camera at whoever was taking the photo. Pilar, a missing front tooth, grinning from ear to ear. Victor remembered that day; he was the one who took that picture. That was the first time Pilar had ridden her bike without training wheels. She was so proud of herself that day. Little baby Adrian, just two months old. He’d been sick before this picture, and Victor had spent the whole duration of his illness trying to make his little brother smile. This was the first time he did. Isabel, softness in her eyes, a smile on her lips, gazing directly at the camera. Victor knew that Armando had taken this picture on their twelfth anniversary after surprising her with a night to themselves and a carriage ride. 

Victor glanced down at his dresser, one last picture on its lonesome, waiting to be taped up with the rest. Armando. He was leaning against a door jamb, and he wasn’t smiling exactly, but there was no denying he was happy. His eyes were warm as he gazed at the person behind the camera, the focus on his loving face.

Victor looked up at the wall, his friends, his  _ family _ , and back down at the picture on his dresser. Armando. His father. His attacker.

Victor picked up the photo with both hands like its weight was too much for him to bear. He stared down at it, and though the eyes in the picture portrayed nothing of what Victor saw that day he’d beaten him to a bloody pulp in the street, it was all he could see. The eyes of his father, his attacker. The last thing he’d thought, at one point, he’d ever see. 

Suddenly, it became too much to bear to look at the photo, and Victor did the only thing he could do. He put the photo back in the pocket of his jacket, put the tape back on his desk, and lay down on his bed. 

He still felt wrong. Why did he feel wrong?

He pulled out the photo again and held it up. The vision of Armando above him while he was laying down made his body freeze in fear, his throat closing up. He shut his eyes, taking deliberate breaths. 

What was wrong with him? He could do this.

With a renewed courage, Victor opened his eyes again and looked at the photo. It was just a picture. It could do nothing to him. It had no power over him. This photo could do nothing. Nevertheless, he still felt something open up in the back of his throat and blackness encroached on his vision. 

He snapped his eyes shut and bolted up, breaths coming heavy, sweat breaking out all over him. He was going to die. He was going to die. Armando would kill him. He was here, and Victor was going to die. 

He opened his eyes. Armando had his fist cocked back, anger contorting his features, and Victor flinched back so hard he knocked into his dresser. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the pain to come. 

Beat.

Nothing.

Victor blinked his eyes open, and he was alone. He whipped around; all six pictures were still up on his wall.

Victor looked down at the evil picture in his hand again, and he did what he really had to do. He gripped the picture in two hands and ripped it to shreds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like validation leave comments  
> If y'all notice, the less comments I get the longer it takes to publish you all give me so much incentive help yourselves here it makes me so happy


	21. If 'I Love You' Had a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date from the Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))))))
> 
> BTW just,, if you feel like this is a suffice ending, notice how we're not done yet

“You know, Victor,” Benji said suddenly, “we’ve never been on an official date.”

Lake perked up. “Oh, my God. Let me help you plan it, please.”

Victor glanced up. He’d been working on his Oreo’s that Benji had packed him (even though things were settled, Benji still packed Victor a lunch) and he’d very much tuned out of the conversation. “Huh?”

“We’ve never really been on a date,” Benji said. 

Victor’s brain stalled. “Yeah we have? To the park? And to pride.”

Benji rolled his eyes. “I mean, I don’t really count those as dates. Come on, let’s go on a date.”

“And let me plan it,” Lake jumped in. Felix put his hand on her shoulder to hold her down. “Really, I can plan you guys an amazing date.”

Benji looked at Lake, then at Victor. “No, I think I got this one. Maybe the next one, Lake.”

She pouted. “Can I at least help you guys get ready? I know how to do fashion much better than you.”

Victor was lost. Was he going on a date with Benji now? When did this happen? When was it going to happen? Where were they going? 

Victor didn’t really like surprises anymore. “I’m sorry, what’s going on?” 

Benji looked at him apologetically. “Sorry.” He took Victor’s hands in his and looked deep in his eyes. “Victor?”

“Yeah, Benji?”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Victor couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like that.”

The grin Victor got in return was worth everything in the world. “Good.”

Lake leaned forward again. “Hello? Hate to interrupt, but can I please help one of you? It would make me so happy.”

Benji shook his head. “I’ve got this covered, Lake.”

Victor, though, did not. He really wasn’t ever sure what he was supposed to wear on a date. He’d always stressed before he hung out with Mia, going through his closet for something decent. She’d always looked so beautiful, and he looked like a little gremlin beside her. And, of course, Benji was so attractive in his tight faded jeans and leather jacket and long hair, and Victor was meant to look like a goblin for his whole life, wasn’t he? 

“Uh, can you help me?” He asked. “I’ve never been very good at this type of thing.”

Mia and Benji exchanged a look; so they agreed he looked like a little house elf. Of course. 

Lake, noticing their glances, happily agreed. “Yes, gladly!” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, this will be great!”

Victor didn’t ask Benji where they would go; as much as it scared him, he wanted it to be a surprise, and he knew Benji wanted to surprise him, too. This was Benji. He approached a dangerous man on Victor’s behalf. He’d keep him safe. 

And then, something occurred to Victor. Two weeks ago, his biggest worry was whether he’d have a place to live. One week ago, his biggest worry was whether his father would murder him. Today, his biggest worry was what to wear on a date. 

He smiled to himself. He was so happy. The last time he was here, Victor was wishing he was dead. Today, he was looking forward to the future. Today, he was alive, and he was himself. 

Benji knocked his shoulder into Victor’s, pulling him from his thoughts. “What are you so smiley about?”

Victor looked at Benji, the adoration in his eyes, the gentle upward quirk of his lips, the playful upturn of his brows. He was overcome with love. 

“I just…” Victor started, but he was unsure of how to continue. How did he explain the happily ever after on the horizon? How did he explain his rainbow of loves in his chest, healing every wound he’d ever had? How did he explain what Benji meant to him, what Felix meant to him, what everything meant to him? How did he explain his happiness? How did he explain the chains on his heart as ribs, and how did he explain how they were finally gone? How did he explain how much everyone at this table meant to him? How did he explain the pictures on his walls? How did he explain how many more he wanted? How did he explain how thankful he was that Armando trashed his room, so he could remake it with the person he now was? How did he explain his connection with Simon? With Bram? With Justin? With Ivy? With Kim? With the Spiers? How did he explain how happy he was with his mother again? How did he explain that he’d forgiven himself when he’d never truly done anything wrong? How did he explain all the happiness in his heart? 

“I’m just… really happy, Benji,” he finally said. 

Benji’s eyes softened even further and he kissed Victor’s cheek. “I love you.”

Victor tucked his head into the crook of Benji’s neck. “I love you, too.”

He glanced around the table at everyone around him. Felix and Lake were sharing an excited look, glancing back and forth between Victor and Benji and each other. Mia looked genuinely happy for them, and Andrew just looked vaguely amused. He was still an asshole. He may have been less of an upfront asshole, but he was still an asshole. Victor rolled his eyes, but Benji wrapped his arms around him and rested his cheek and Victor’s head and, wow. Who knew healing could feel so very good?

***

“Victor, it’ll make you look hot.”

“It’ll make me look like a freak,” Victor shot back. 

Lake groaned and threw herself onto his bed. “I don’t understand why you asked for my help if you don’t want to take it.”

She had a point. He’d be in here stressing until the moment he had to leave over what he’d wear. And then he’d be a wreck and Benji would never want to look at him. 

“Okay,” Victor said, resigning himself to feeling uncomfortable on his first official date with Benji. At least Benji would like looking at him. “Make me look good.”

Lake smiled and sat up. “Perfect. Bring me your face.”

***

Victor stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, mouth opened in awe. 

He looked _amazing._

He had a pair of navy blue closed-toed slip-on shoes that Lake miraculously procured from his closet. He hadn’t seen those since he unpacked them in January. She paired them with a pair of black pants that hugged his frame and ass, and a white shirt along with a black bomber jacket. After that, she used a bit of highlight on his cheeks and found the lip gloss in his back pocket from pride. She deemed it a perfect color for his skin tone then tucked it into his jacket pocket in case he needed it (“Remember, lip gloss smooths lips,” she said with a wink. “Lake, please.”). She managed to pull less attention to the ugly bruises and scarring cut on his face. She brushed out his hair then took some gel and tousled it a bit so it was messy, but he didn’t look like a slob. He looked cool. 

He looked _good_. 

Lake came and stood beside them, gazing at their reflections. “Do you like it?”

Victor nodded, mum. 

She laughed softly. “You look really good, don’t you?” 

He nodded again. “Thank you, Lake,” he said softly. 

She shrugged and turned to face him instead of his reflection. “Can I ask you something?”

Victor turned to face her, too. “Yeah, what is it?”

Lake took a deep breath. “Did you know you were gay? When you were with Mia?”

Victor sighed and leaned against the bathroom counter. “Well, at first I did. And then, she was really sweet and nice and I really liked her. But, once we tried to go further, things just fell apart.”

She pursed her lips, taking in that information. “Why’d you cheat on her?”

He winced. It was a valid question, and it deserved an answer. He wished he could give a better one. “I don’t know. It was more of a spur of the moment thing than anything else.”

“So, you weren’t thinking?”

He shook his head. “I guess, I saw a chance to do the one thing I never thought I could, the one thing I wanted to do more than anything else in the world. I saw the chance and I took it. I was going to tell her the truth, the whole truth including kissing Benji, but things got away from me.”

Lake lifted herself onto the bathroom counter, avoiding his gaze. “I was so mad when I found out. I wanted to find you and beat you with a pole.”

Victor shrugged with an awkward chuckle. “I would have deserved it. I would’ve wanted it.”

“I wanted to hate you. I _did_ hate you.” She turned to him, her eyes sad. “But when I saw you that first day back, and you looked so torn up inside, I knew there was something more.” She looked down at the floor. “It felt like you were dying. I could feel it every time I saw you. You looked like you wanted to be dead.”

Victor bit his lip, tracing the patterns in the tile with his gaze. “I did.”

Lake nodded in his peripheral vision, still staring at the mat under his feet. “I knew I couldn’t hate you. I understood, somehow, that you were mourning something. I wish I had known the truth earlier.”

Victor shrugged, his eyes burning with unshed tears. “I was so scared of people knowing. I didn’t want anyone to feel bad for me, or to hate me, or anything. I was so scared and it all hurt so bad. Everything went so wrong so quickly and I… I don’t know. I wanted to love Mia. I wanted to go back to normal.” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. “When he kicked me out, I hated myself so much. I wished I was dead. I felt like nobody should have helped me. No one should have to have the burden of me.”

Lake covered Victor’s hand with her own. He turned to her, shocked, and she looked him straight in the eye and said, “You are not a burden, Victor. Life is so much harder than anyone ever let’s on. I don’t want you to be dead. No one wants you to be dead. Just… please. Don’t be dead.”

Victor wiped his eyes again, and Lake did the same. 

“I just wish you had told me,” she said, taking some toilet paper and dabbing under her eyes. “You could’ve stayed at my house. We could’ve talked about how crazy sexy our boyfriends are and how weird it is that Mia and Andrew are together.”

Victor laughed. “I was really missing out.”

“Yeah you were!” She sniffed and threw away the toilet paper, then hopped off the counter and held a hand out to Victor. “Now, come on. We don’t want you to be late to the first day of your better life.”

***

Benji was waiting in the living room with Pilar. She was silently staring him down from two feet away, and he was dutifully pretending she wasn’t. 

“Down, Pilar,” Victor said as he approached. 

Benji looked grateful, but once he caught sight of Victor his mouth drifted open, and he just stared. Victor could imagine his face looked just about the same as he openly stared back. Benji was wearing his combat boots and a pair of skinny jeans, paired with a soft-looking light grey t-shirt, a red flannel tied around his waist, and Victor’s favorite thing in the world, his leather jacket.

Benji looked very, very sexy.

“Victor,” he said, seemingly at a loss, “you look… really…”

“Yeah,” Victor finished for him, doing his best to gather his wits. “You too.”

Pilar sighed. “Can I get either of you two anything before you go? Maybe some water for your thirsty asses?”

Benji either didn’t notice her tone or just chose to ignore it. “No, I think we’re good to go.”

Victor nodded and grabbed the keys off the table, giving Pilar a quick kiss on the head. She swatted his chest, and he jumped back. There was remorse in her eyes, but he didn’t mind. 

“Bye, guys,” He said and opened the door. “Thanks again, Lake.”

“No problem,” She called after them. Victor closed the door and led Benji out.

“You look really good,” Benji said quietly as they bounded downstairs. 

“So do you,” Victor told him. “So where are we going?”

Benji shrugged. “There’s this place I know.”

As Victor led him out the front door, he reminded Benji he was not the one driving. Benji assured him he knew this. They got in Victor’s Mom’s car, and Victor asked which way. Benji gave him directions, and otherwise, they sat in silence. The quiet reminded him of Willacoochee; Victor hated thinking about Willacoochee.

He started thinking about Armando, and the photos he used to keep in his pocket. He wondered if Armando would try to kill him should he ever find out he was staying in the same apartment as his young son. Would he try to kill everyone else, too? He knew what Benji looked like; what if he came after Benji, too? What if everyone died because of Victor?

Benji brushed a gentle, caring knuckle against a forming crease in the corner of his mouth. “What are you thinking about? That’s the bad look. That crease means you’re stressing about something, what is it?”

Victor shrugged, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Nothing much.”

“No, it just got deeper, you’re stressing and lying.”

Victor pulled away from Benji’s hand. “Will you stop psychoanalyzing me?”

Benji frowned. “I’m not psychoanalyzing you, I’m just worried.” He reached out again once they slowed for a red light and stroked Victor’s hair. “Please? What’s wrong?”

After making a decision, Victor’s fingers squeezed the steering wheel. He kept his gaze on the road ahead of him instead of the boy sitting next to him. “I just think a lot about… him.” He sighed heavily and turned to Benji. “What if he comes back to get me or you or someone? What if he comes after Pilar or Adrian? Because of me.”

The light turned green, and the car moved on while the two inside stayed silent. Time seemed to freeze in there, even as Victor changed lanes to pull into the next parking lot. Benji didn’t say a word as he pulled into a spot and put the car in park. 

“I’m so sorry, Benji,” He said softly. He heard the pain and desperation in his own voice, and it disgusted him. Why couldn’t he be better? 

Benji was silent. Victor couldn’t bear look at him to see the disappointment he knew was in his eyes. This night was a mistake. This relationship was a mistake. Victor was a mess, and Benji deserved so much better.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered again, his voice cracking on the last word. His throat felt tight and his eyes hurt with the force of the tears building up behind them. He was getting a headache just thinking about how hard he felt like crying. 

He let out a shaky breath, and figured the night and the relationship was already ruined, so why not go all in? “I ruin everything. I just can’t let go of it. It feels like he’s always behind me. It feels like any minute now he’s gonna come out of nowhere and finish me off. And I just can’t stop thinking about what Pilar and Mom said about living with him, all his threats. What if he follows through?” The tears were coming now, and Victor couldn’t stop it. He was a failure. “I’m so, so sorry, Benji,” he whispered. “I’ll just take you home.”

He put his hand on the gear, but Benji’s hand came down on his. “No,” he whispered. “Please don’t.”

Despite everything in his head screaming for him to keep his gaze away, he looked at Benji. He expected to see anger, disappointment, disgust, contempt. All he saw was concern.

“Victor,” Benji started, voice low, “you need to understand this.” He brought up both hands to cup Victor’s jaw, thumbs softly stroking his cheeks, undoubtedly smudging the little makeup he had on. “I love you. And you went through hell for a solid month. You went unconscious. He threatened to kill you, and he damn well tried. That’s not going to just go away. But, listen to me.” He held Victor’s face so close to his. “I am not going anywhere. I don’t care what happens. I’ll be right here for you, always.” He pressed his forehead to Victor’s and closed his eyes tight. “Let’s have a good night, okay? Let’s go on a date and be normal and love each other, just because we can. Let’s beat that bastard’s ass.”

Victor laughed, a wet, sad sound. “Okay.”

Benji kissed him quick and rough. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Victor changed gears to reverse. “What direction?”

“To Kettlewick.”

Victor chuckled in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Aren’t you tired of coffee?” Victor asked with a smile, pulling out of the lot.

“Of making it? Yes. Of drinking it? Never.”

And so, Victor drove to Kettlewick, a small cafe near the edge of town. The roof was lined with fairy lights and the tables were all mismatched, dining tables and outside tables cluttered inside with random chairs at random spots. A booth seat lined an entire wall, and in a separate back room was a table on a rise with lanterns hung from the ceiling. Outside was an iron fence with elaborate twists and another string of fairy lights threaded through the bars, and a garden with more mismatched tables and chairs. In the corner was one big tree with more lights strung up in the branches with about a hundred tiny slips of paper tied with rainbow strings. Soft music was emanating from the building, which looked like it was renovated from a quaint little home, the outside walls a gentle lavender. Small pride flags and Black Lives Matter flags hung from the edge of the roof. Victor was a little but in love with it all. 

Benji led him inside by the hand, and they each ordered coffees and sandwiches (Victor got a panini and Benji got a BLT) then went outside and took their seats at a small glass table. 

“This place is adorable,” Victor said, taking another look around. In the evening glow, the place felt almost angelic. It made him feel so at ease.

‘I figured you’d like it,” Benji said with a smile and sipped on his straw. He’d gotten some type of frozen cappuccino while Victor got a hot espresso drink.

“I do,” Victor said. 

They ate their sandwiches in silence, and Victor couldn’t get enough of the scenery. There was a path he noticed of cement squares leading all over the outside garden, starting at the building and taking winding paths, crossing all over the place, dutifully going around the tables. The squares had things like butterflies and dragonflies and birds and bees and different types of flowers carved into them. Along the back of the premises was, instead of a wrought iron fence, a tall wooden picket fence. It was painted a light brown and had tons of different colored handprints all over it. 

When Victor glanced back at Benji, he was staring at him with hearts in his eyes. 

“What?” He asked, suddenly self conscious. Did he have something on his face? 

Benji shrugged, face going red with embarrassment at having been caught, but he held eye contact all the same. “You just… you’re really beautiful.”

Now it was Victor’s turn to blush. He bit his lip shyly and muttered, “You are, too.”

“No, I mean it, Victor,” Benji said, sitting forward to meet Victor’s gaze better. “You are so beautiful here.”

Victor stared at him at a loss for how to reply. He’d never been good with compliments, never received them too often, and now that he was on the receiving end of one so heartfelt and sweet, he was overwhelmed. All he said back was, “I love you.”

Benji reached out and carefully tapped the tip of Victor’s nose. “I love you, too.”

Victor couldn’t stop smiling as he finished his sandwich. Benji called him beautiful. He thought Victor was beautiful. Even with the scar on his cheek and the almost-faded bruises on his face, Benji was looking at him because he was _beautiful._ God, Victor was so lucky.

“You done?” Benji asked. He was bouncing on the edge of his seat, lips pursed, excitement written all over his face. Whatever he had planned next, he was looking forward to it?

Victor nodded, giddiness filling him up. Benji’s excitement was infectious. “What’s next?”

“Follow me,” Benji told him and led him away from the table.

He walked dutifully on the cement path, sometimes stopping Victor to tell him about the carvings. 

About a smiling bee with circular glasses, “This is Betty the Bee, she was a kindergarten teacher but is now retired and reads to kids at the library every afternoon.”

About a tree with a smiling face in the bark and dozens of pebbles all over the square, “This is Tracy the tree, she doesn’t like it when you step on her. She does, though, like it when you put rocks next to her. They’re her best friends.”

About a wolf laying down and curled up, “This is Wally the Wolf, he likes to collect berries and leaves for the little kids that come in.”

About a butterfly with heavily detailed wings, “This is Brianna the Butterfly, she will come in your dreams and give you a good luck butterfly kiss if you remember her as you leave tonight.”

About a vase of flowers, “This is Betty’s favorite vase to come visit at night.”

About a fluffy owl with a spooked look, “This is Olly the Owl. He’s just a baby and he spooks real easy. His favorite song is _Fireflies_ by Owl City. He thinks his dad sang it. Don’t tell him otherwise.”

About a mushroom with an angry face, “This is Frank the Fungus, he’s an asshole, don’t talk to him.”

Benji took Victor all over, following the turns of the paths, the intersections all over, until eventually, they came to the big tree in the corner. He said, “And this is the Wish Tree. You take a slip of paper and a string of yarn, and you write a wish on it, and you tie it to the tree on the highest branch you can reach and it’ll come true.” Benji gestured to a table with an ornate glass dish with a matching lid which held pre-hole punched slips of paper along with a beautiful ceramic bowl with pieces of string in all colors, reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, purples, whites, greys, and rainbow. Next to it was a vintage-looking tin rectangular container holding pens with different colored inks.

With a fond look, Benji asked softly, “Do you want to make a wish, Victor?”

Wordlessly, he nodded. 

Benji removed the lid and took out two slips of paper and held one out to Victor. He inspected the paper. They had already been creased down the middle with four holes punched; two by the crease, and two in each upper corner. He figured it was to give an option of how you wanted to tie it to the tree, open or closed. Benji finished writing his wish, and Victor was still at a loss for what to write. He felt so full and so lost at the same time. What was he supposed to wish for?

Benji came behind him and kissed behind his ear, making Victor shiver with pleasure. He never realized how sensitive a spot that was. “It’s okay, Victor, just write whatever you want. We can always come back. It doesn’t have to be a wish. Just a thought, a dream. Whatever you’re thinking.”

Victor thought on that. Whatever he was thinking? Well, right now he was thinking that Benji was the best thing in the world and no matter what, he didn’t want to lose him. Who else knew all of the Kettlewick lore? Who else could read Victor’s thoughts like they were, well, like they were written on paper right in front of him. 

He stepped forward and took a red gel pen. 

Whatever he was thinking? Well, he was also always thinking about what Emily and Jack had been talking about in the kitchen that day after the CAT scan. PTSD. He thought about that a lot. He didn’t want it, of course, but as dreams played through his head every night and the fight-or-flight stayed in the on-mode, it got harder to deny the possibility. 

Whatever he was thinking? Well, he was thinking he wanted to live in the state of complete euphoria he felt standing in Kettlewick with the boy he loved for as long as he could. For, preferably, forever. 

How did he sum all that up in one wish?

Benji was watching him from afar, eyes soft and encouraging. 

Victor’s first wish on the wish tree. He pressed the pen to the paper, in awe of how smooth it wrote. 

_I, Victor Salazar, wish to finally be happy._

He gently folded the paper along the crease and chose a red string, sliding it through the holes so it was hung closed. He looked at it and thought, _What if it doesn’t come true?_

He slid the string out and passed it through the holes by the crease instead, forever open, forever free, forever changing, forever coming true. 

The two tied their strings to the paper, then reached for the highest branch (Benji could only reach for the one below Victor’s), and tied their slips to the tree in unison. They stepped back, and Victor leaned into Benji’s chest, who wrapped his arm around Victor’s waist, and they both admired their wishes together, side by side for eternity. Benji kissed behind Victor’s ear again as he had obviously picked up on that shiver earlier, and said softly, “Your first wish. Why red?”

Victor shrugged. “It feels like the color that would make it most come true.”

Victor turned his head, and Benji kissed him. He felt like flying. Everything was so perfect. Victor was so in love. 

“So, how do you know all of the pictures, Betty, Tracy, all of them?”

Benji sighed and looked back up at the tree. “When I was younger, I used to come here after school. My mom’s best friend owns the place. It was always her dream to own a quaint little coffee shop like this. So, as the tiles were being made, she asked me what animal they should be. She asked what she should name them, and what they were like. And she used it to make them. She drew them and asked for my approval. Now, she has tiny pictures of them inside all over the place with their little descriptions.”

“So, you made these?” Victor asked, a smile on his face. That was fucking adorable.

Benji nodded, sheepish. “Yeah.”

Victor kissed the side of Benji’s nose, the nearest place we could reach. “I love them. I love you.”

Benji kissed him again. “I’ve never taken anyone here before.”

Victor furrowed his brows. “Wait, really? Not even Derek?”

Benji shook his head. “Angela--the owner--always offered for my band to play here, but this place is so special to me. I didn’t want anyone ruining it.”

Victor turned in his arms and cupped Benji’s face with his hands. “Then why’d you take me?”

“Because you could never. I love you more than anything. No matter what happens, this night will always be perfect.”

Victor smiled and kissed Benji’s nose. “I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

Victor gasped, feigning hurt, and started backing up. “I’m gonna go tell Frank you said that.”

“No!” Benji shouted, mock serious. “You don’t wanna do that!”

“I’m gonna do it!” Victor shouted back. 

“No! You don’t want to do that! He’ll spread rumors!”

Victor took off running, and Benji flung himself after him, chasing him down the garden. A flash of fear went through his chest, but he shoved it down. This was perfect; there was no reason to be afraid.

Victor slowed down, and Benji did, too, and they both caught their breaths as patrons looked on in bewilderment and amusement. 

Benji kissed him, and Victor felt the world fall away. He’d never felt better in his life.

***

Victor was just closing the door two minutes before curfew when he got a text from Simon over Instagram. They still didn’t really use phone numbers.

 **“Victor,** **  
****It was so nice seeing you and meeting your friends. Benji is clearly a keeper; hang onto him.** **  
****There was one thing I think I forgot to mention during our final goodbye: your true self is a very good look on you.** **  
****Love, Simon.”**

Victor smiled and wrote back: **  
** **  
****“Simon,** **  
****I thought, after everything that happened, I would be miserable forever. I am still so sorry I stopped messaging you guys. I just got so depressed, I guess I forgot you all would care. I’ll never make that mistake again.** **  
****As for the real me, I thank you. I was thinking I’d make it a permanent part of my style.** **  
** **Thank you for including me in your family, Simon. I never thought I’d heal from what happened, but I did, with you, the whole New York crew, my crew here in Georgia, your family, and my family. I can never thank you enough for coming with me through all of this.** **  
****Love, Victor.** **  
****P.S. Just had my first official date with Benji and it was awesome! You were right about that kissing thing. Like a tidal wave.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Validate me? :)))))))))))))))
> 
> New series is up with chapter 1!!


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